The Door into Summer
by miraclewish
Summary: Translated from Chinese. America/England. Arthur and Alfred were lovers for a while now, but Arthur seemed to be unwilling to move furthur in their relationship. As more problems surface, Alfred begins to realize what it really means to be a country...
1. Chapter 1

Translated from Chinese with permission.

Author: ayami

Translation: miraclewish (wishfull2)

* * *

**"WHEN ONE DOOR SHUTS, ANOTHER OPENS" - D. Rowland tr. (1586)**

Two years had already passed since he started going out with Arthur. Two years and three days, to be more precise. Alfred stared in frustration at the drunk person sleeping on his white leather sofa. He thought about whether dragging him onto the bed or waking Arthur by pouring the kitchen water on him would make him feel better. Needless to say, pouring water was definitely a good revenge, but he would also spill the water on his precise sofa. Alfred decided not to do something that could increase his trouble.

It wasn't too difficult to drag Arthur onto the bed, since he had his superhuman strength (?) after all. Alfred "already" didn't mind this drunk person staining his bed with a strong smell of alcohol every time. But even now, he still wasn't used to one thing - why did this drunk person take everything but his underwear off unconsciously all the time?

He was used to seeing Arthur's chest, legs, face, and thick eyebrows; he also touched enough of his slender limbs and the skin that had a slightly lower temperature than his. Alfred stood beside the sofa, hands on his hips, sulking in irritation.

After cleaning up the bottles thrown around by Arthur, he put away the carpet in the living room (Arthur spilled some alcohol on his Kashmir carpet an hour ago. He was ticked off by this), preparing it for dry-cleaning tomorrow. He threw away the bags of junk food they ate earlier into the garbage can. Arthur was the only problem left.

He patted Arthur's face and he avoided his hand, turning away with a groan. Unwilling to give up, Alfred patted his face again. Arthur opened his eyes in a daze, and the two of them stared speechlessly at each other for a second and half.

"You're such a pain-"

Before finishing his sentence, Arthur took his hand and held it in his arms.

"Hey!"

Alfred wanted to pull his hand back in reflex, but Arthur was holding it tightly. If he pull his hand away by force, he might fell off the sofa as well. Since it would become very troublesome no matter what he did, he decided it would be better to pick the one that wouldn't be too bad for each other after weighing the options. Arthur's eyes were closed again. He used his other hand to loop around Arthur's back and held him up desperately so he could rest on his chest. Arthur's fluffy blond hair was rubbing against his clothes. Through this thin layer of isolation, Alfred thought he could hear the heartbeat of the person in his arms.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

He was breathing regularly and rhythmically. Like the Minuet of Andante, everything was carried out smoothly in some kind of standard. Alfred couldn't help but yawn because of the calmness and serenity.

Being in this atmosphere, no one would have the right mood to do it. He felt a little bit resentful, but couldn't bring himself to break the silence. Compared to bickering with Arthur, he preferred being together warmly like this more often. He wouldn't let Arthur knew this little secret of his, because he would lose face as a hero.

* * *

**The Door into Summer**  
_After dream of dream, I wasted all the time_.

In the beginning, no organisms existed in this world. But one day, perhaps thunder or something facilitated the single nucleotides, thus the ocean became a primitive soup of life. Even with primitive lives, the world was not as vibrant as it is now. It was a world of oceans and volcanoes, desolate yet violent. Tiny single-celled organisms struggled to survive in the oceans. No one knew whether they were capable of thoughts, or perhaps the definition of thought needed to be considered before that.

In short, they were simple yet wonderful organisms. Like a delicate doll, they were the beginning of everything. Then variations occurred, and more complex organisms emerged. They grew, evolved, and endured many ice ages and warm climates. They regenerated after death, and finally evolved into the ancestors of human.

Things were not over yet. These ancestors adopted in this world, escaped dinosaurs and mass distinctions. Finally, they came into the Cenozoic Era when they were able dominate the earth. Some species of ape jumped off the trees and lived on the ground, but some of their kinds still couldn't forget their life on the trees. In the beginning, they walked and ran with four limbs. They gradually stood upright afterward, using their spare hands to do more intelligent activities. Time flew by, and they became homo sapiens.

Humans invented many things. They discovered the law of the world by observation. They were capable of thinking just like us now (perhaps varying in the degrees). They had consciousnesses. Everything after this became even more bizarre and incomprehensible. These consciousnesses seemed to polymerize and form some kind of power. They created the concept of God and the concept of citizen. They created governments and nations.

So we appeared.

I don't fully understand whether we had a physical form because of the land or we appeared because of people's consciousnesses. This is like the chicken or the egg causality dilemma, or more like Mobius strip. The problem never ends.

* * *

Arthur and I are currently in a very awkward situation. I don't want to explain it to you in details, this is too... but there's no doubt that a very serious problem exists between us.

We are two different nations. I left him and became independent two hundred years ago (almost three hundred now). To be more accurate, "my people" caused me to leave him and become independent. I don't really like putting it this way, but perhaps it's closer to the truth. It's really difficult to define something like consciousness. Besides, I'm a subtle combination myself.

It has been a long time since I realized I was different from other people for the first time. I don't have any special feelings. Then I met other nations. According to my memory, I chose England in the end. But now that I think about it, maybe it wasn't "me" that chose him. Perhaps it was my people or his army, or the so-called flow of history that made me choose him.

Anyway, so I spent some time with him. There were both happiness and suffering. There's nothing more to say about that. That's all.

I had a really hard time when I left him. The members of the army were scattered around, and the loss of my people caused my health to decline. But this is the inevitable path to become a real nation. Otherwise, I probably would end up like the little island abandoned by England or those poor fellows who made uproar for independence, yet were powerless to do so. They always depended on the whims of others.

Personally, I think the choice I made was worth it. I didn't want to understand England's feeling back then. It's just that current affairs are always changing and so do people. Our thoughts change too...

Even though I left, old things still remained. The old systems were preserved (even I want to ask who was the pretentious king that formulated the unit of inches? Also, why are people stupid enough to still use it? Oh, please don't mention my people.). An act like this makes me feel uneasy from time to time. And I think this is one of the reasons why Arthur and I are like this now, uh, you know, our intimate relationship.

Our partnership is close on the surface and we contact each other frequently in private, but I think Arthur has drawn an invisible boundary between us in reality. Touching here is fine, but I can't move further down there. He's a person who says one thing but means another. As long as I guess what he wants and listen to him, he will soften his attitude (at a time like this, his reaction is funny most of the time), but he never relaxes in maintaining this line.

I have guessed many possibilities. For example, maybe he won't let me go beyond the limit because he doesn't love me as much as I imagined. But that thought is dismissed whenever I see him react agitatedly to what I say. (Everyone knows he loves me death. Who doesn't love a hero after all, especially when he's your boyfriend?)

Then perhaps his love for me is not the kind between lovers, but the stupid brotherly love-this possibility is very high since he's very inflexible. In that case, of course he can't open his damn mind and open his thighs voluntarily. Hey, I have to say, even though a lot of people think I'm rather possessive (in fact, I don't deny it), but I'm not possessive as to the extent of a rapist.

I think it's a torment for every man to have a regular boyfriend but not a normal, healthy sex life. As far as I know, Arthur is in the top in this area. Damn it, it's like he doesn't have the slightest interest in me. I don't believe he never did it with France, then why can't I?

He's drunk nine out of ten times whenever he comes over and stays in my place. He's drunk to the extent erection was not possible. The situation is not any different when I go over to his place. He's always capable of pulling out a whiskey and making himself drunk when I'm not paying attention to him. If he happens not to be drunk that day, he'll start talking to his illusions. That cheap guy knew once he did that I'll look at him in sympathy, all sexual desires gone.

Yup, I think you understand well enough where the problem is and where that boundary is now. I can kiss, but no lubricants. I can caress, but not go in. He's controlling the pace with ease. I often wonder maybe someday I'll really push him down without caring about anything.

And this opportunity came soon.

After the meeting was over, Arthur, France and some other guys they usually drink with went to a pub. France called me afterward and wanted me to pick him up because he was beginning to undress from his drunken fit again. After bringing that extremely troublesome guy home, I found out he could still move around on his own, so I simply threw him into the bathroom. He had put a set of bath powder he often used in my place. In addition, several sets of his clothes were hanging in the closet. I was even forced to store some of his favorite tea leaves in the kitchen cabinets.

I was watching a match in the living room as usual, waiting for the kettle switch to jump. I intended to make myself a cup of coffee for my hard work. If Arthur was done with bathing, he probably would want to make himself a cup of earl gray tea afterward. I was right. Arthur wasn't very drunk tonight because he was walking out of the bathroom in a straight line. Or maybe he was sober now because he had just thrown up in the bathroom.

He was wearing a bathrobe and nagging about something as he dried his hair with a towel. It sounded like France had lost some game but made a scene. Then Arthur sat down beside me and picked up the financial magazine on the table, tilting his head as he read on. The scent from the rose shampoo he used was refreshing. He had also brushed his teeth; the smell of alcohol in his breath was lighter.

He revealed an intentional smile not long after as he pointed to one of the articles and said, "There's no way something like Euro can be reliable."

"Oh."

"It's nothing more than a currency made by that muscle man and mustache man. The interest rate can't be freely adjusted nor lowered in the event of an economic crisis. Those guys will want to consider withdrawing sooner or later."

"There are rumors like that indeed."

"But you're still the cause! You git!"

I already knew his conclusion would always be directed at me, but I don't feel like arguing with him today. The match on the television screen was more exciting than that.  
He waited for a while but I didn't respond, so he flipped randomly through the magazine again before putting it down. His hair wasn't dried yet but he leaned close to me.

"I want some tea."

"The kitchen's over there." I used my finger and pointed in the direction of the kitchen.

"Hot water."

"There's already some."

"... How's the match?"

"Yankees versus the Red Socks today. It's currently the second half of the seventh inning..."

He left to make some tea. After about five minutes, he came back again and sat on my leather sofa, sipping his tea slowly.

"Baseball is such an inefficient sport."

"Go read your porn."

He took another sip of the tea again.

"It's like the match never ends."

"At least it's not violent."

"I dare say basketball is about the same."

"It's baseball now."

"Betting."

"Everyone knows gambling for World Cup is very popular."

"Oh, and I also know the current odds is one to four."

"Not bad."

He paused, "I think I should drink some more."

"Just don't throw up on the bed."

"... Alfred."

He put down his cup and gently touched my thigh with his hand, saying suddenly with emotions, "This is nice."

"What's so nice?"

"This."

"What do you meaning by this?"

"Sitting here, you watching TV and us talking..."

"Oh, this is very nice indeed." I suddenly got a little angry. "Accompanying a square who's lamenting the small happiness of his life, but he has no idea what the other person's feeling at all. And now, he won't even let me watch the match without disturbing!"

Arthur became silent for a while, but he didn't remove his hand. Then he said in a low voice, "All right." It was like he was making me guilty on purpose. If I still have something like that.

It seemed like he decided to return to the bedroom and sleep. He organized the magazines and newspapers neatly (just like a mom), picked up the cup on the table, and then got his butt off the sofa. He was getting ready to leave. I really wanted to ignore him, I swear I do, I didn't want to read the atmosphere at all. It was my body that betrayed me!

I pulled him down and kissed him hard. I kissed his lips, his collarbones and his chest. He didn't struggle much in the beginning, but he pushed me away hard like he was suddenly awakened when my hands reached for his lower body. I didn't intend to let him succeed and held him down with my body unheroicly, forcing him to be trapped on the sofa. I held on to his cock, moving my hand up and down on it. The strength he was pushing me with weakened, but he continued to push me away hard. I wasn't very happy. He was making too much racket, so I kissed him to shut him up. His emerald eyes were panicking and his cheeks were red. He bit my tongue hard.

"Shit!"

I backed up in reflex. He saw me relaxing and climbed up from the sofa immediately. I grabbed his leg so he couldn't leave, then he turned around and gave me a solid punch.

It hurt.

"Bloody hell! Alfred! You almost ruined everything!"

"What am I ruining? I only know my regular boyfriend never has sex with me, but he's enjoying it with others outside!"

"I-I'm not ready yet..."

"Oh. So, Mr. Kirkland, you don't deny having an affair?"

"Af-affair?"

He looked confused.

"Is it Abril? Betty? Susanna? Or Francis?"

"You're crazy!" Arthur shouted, "If you really think so, then it's over between us!"

"Isn't that it? Everyone knows you have a lewd body. You're happy to do anything shameful-if he can fuck you until you're mad!"

"Enough! Alfred!"

Arthur couldn't stand it anymore. He strode towards the bedroom and I chased after him. I didn't know why I had to say something so awful, but at that moment I was angrier that he didn't refute my words at all.

He opened the closet, grabbed all the clothes he had in my place and threw all of them into a traveling bag.

"Get out, Alfred."

"This is my house. My bedroom. Why do I have to leave?"

I said gloomily. After a while, he turned around and looked at me with no expression.

"... If you want it, then you can have it."

He simply took off the bathrobe and threw that white clothing on the ground. He faced me with a naked body.

"Fuck me."

He stood in the shadows of the room; I stood at a bright place by the door. In the face of his provocation, I told myself I wanted to make him regret it. I would thrust into him mercilessly, turning a deaf ear to his cries. Just like how he was so cruel to me. But the more I thought about it, the more pathetic I felt. He was just standing there. I could do anything to him.

"Arthur..."

I heard my own voice ringing in the room, hoarse and empty.

"You're not coming?" He said.

Arthur laughed. He pulled out a shirt and a pair of trousers from the traveling bag.  
He began wearing his clothes. I watched him as his body was covered up with fitting clothes again. I found out his hair was already dry at the same time, but it was messy because he didn't fix his hair with a hair dryer. He squatted down, organized his bag and lifted it up.

When he walked pass me I could hear him say clearly, "Coward."

=========  
This is one of my favorite Usxuk fanfic in Chinese.  
I'm not familiar with the British English, so I hope I had the way Arthur speaks right...


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_We've been young and we've been free, hey baby..._

_

* * *

_

Alfred gazed absentmindedly at the traffic downstairs. The government official's words went in his right ear and came out of his left ear immediately.

He didn't really mind letting others know he wasn't listening. This useless meeting had indeed been going on for too long. He wasn't the only one distracted; the other officials were also restraining the urges to yawn. Alfred really couldn't understand the issues and problems that were put forward repeatedly from the discussion. Couldn't they make up their minds already?

Oh, he knew that everyone knows how to do things the best way on many matters, but there was always a block stuck in between. Perhaps it was the financial groups or the distribution of benefits that was in the way. Making the right decision became difficult because of that. Regardless, this lengthy meeting should end already.

He simply turned his head to the windows and looked out openly and impolitely, ignoring the looks of the civil official sitting beside him. The speaker on the stage noticed his reaction.

"Mr. Jones, do you have any good opinion?"

Alfred replied half-heartedly, "Oh no, I'm just thinking that I should exercise my eyes so I can see further."

Some of the participants couldn't help but chuckled. The official on the stage felt awkward by this and cleared his throat.

"This is a very important issue. We need to discuss and consider it repeatedly until we make sure everything will work out."

"True." Alfred turned back. The face that seemed forever young said with a smile, "A savior always arrives late. I think it's because the spaceship he's riding on always gets intercepted and thrown into area fifty-one for dissection. Those scientists would always say with sincerity," Alfred clasped his hands together in exaggeration, "Dear God, I've thrown those that pretended to be you into hell!"

Everyone laughed at this.

The Secretary of the Homeland Security stood up to conclude the meeting, "I think everyone all agrees it's time to save our stomachs."

Alfred was the first to get up and leave the conference room.

* * *

He went to the restaurant and ordered a hamburger, fries and coke. All these were high-calorie foods he loved. He carried the tray and sat near the windows. His civil officer came along not soon after. He asked suggestively, "May I sit here?"

"Of course." Alfred took some fries and stuffed them into his mouth.

"What a tiring meeting it is." The civil officer said. Unlike Alfred, who only picked unhealthy food, he mostly took vegetables and meat with little oil and salt.

Alfred didn't reply. His eyes were still staring outside the window desperately.

"Has anything been troubling you recently?"

"Nothing." Alfred replied immediately, picking up his coke and sucking it down.

"... You have not been able to concentrate lately." The civil officer said, "I am worried about you."

"I'm fine. There's no problem with my body, my mind or whatsoever."

"This is good to hear."

Putting down his fork, the civil officer took a napkin to wipe off the sauce that dripped onto the table.

"It seems Mr. England rarely comes over recently."

"He's got stuff to do."

"Oh. What a shame."

Alfred took off the buns on the hamburger, revealing the yellow cheese and lettuces in the middle. He picked off those off too, leaving himself with the meat. He picked up the knife and the fork and started cutting it.

The civil officer watched him as he cut the meat up into pieces as if he was venting his anger out. His knife hit the plate with a "clang" again and again.

"If you have any concern, please feel free to tell me." He continued, "You are very important to us."

"Thanks."

Alfred forked the pieces of meat into his mouth and chewed.

* * *

He drove home, got out of the car and closed the door. Alfred took out an envelope from the garage and walked out. He suddenly discovered his neighbor's grass cutting machine was parked on his lawn. They must have forgotten to put it away. Perhaps the mischievous brat in his family did it. Alfred carried his jacket, planning to push the grass cutting machine next door with a single hand.

A weird sensation spread to his four limbs the moment he held the handle. Alfred stopped his movement at this. He stretched his shoulder, shook his head, held the handle again and pushed with all his might. But the machine moved at a slower rate than he expected. In fact, it wasn't moving all that strangely... but something felt off.

Alfred thought the exhaustion from today's stinking long meeting was to blame for this strange feeling. He took out a key, opened the door and turned the light on. The enormous house was clean and tidy. The wool carpet laid in the living room again, rid of all smell of alcohol. After that argument, meetings between Arthur and him in the public were the same as always. The meetings in private, however, were largely reduced-fine, there was none. Alfred took out a beer (and not coke) from the fridge and sat in front of the television.

The world continued spinning day after day; Alfred was calculating how long this cold war would last. It was like they had unlimited time to waste on this, and the both of them were never bored with the game that hurt other people and themselves. Just like how there were always crimes, car accidents, the deceases of people and the births of new lives in the news. He loosened his tie and gulped down the beer, trying to make himself relax by lying on the sofa. The colors on his LCD screen were changing constantly; these light were shining on his face as if a movie was playing.

He decided to throw away all the shampoo, body wash, face wash and the like that Arthur had left in the bathroom.

In any case, Arthur should get himself a new set "if" they made up, like there would be a new beginning every time. His lover wouldn't change, so he could only change himself.

Then he should simply take the time to replace the decoration as well. He had disliked the dark green curtains chosen by Arthur for a long time. After making up his mind, he stood up in full mobility and started taking it down after he found the toolbox in the storage room.

This cabinet should be replaced. The table in the kitchen had lots of scratches left by Arthur (What the heck was he doing in the kitchen? Aside from killing the lives of the food again?). That would be replaced too. He should also clean the bookshelf. Before that, he would have to carry those heavy, thick, and voluminous books down. He found a ladder, climbed up, and carried the books on the higher shelves down. He was going to take eight of the thick hard-covered books down at once, so it would only take him seven trips for all the books on this shelf. One book, two books, three books, four books...

That indescribable, weird sensation hit him again. He realized the weight of the four books were heavier than he imagined to be. He should stop if he didn't want to fall off the ladder. He clicked his tongue, climbed down the stairs and put the books down on the ground. After being busy all night, he already took down roughly all the books on the shelf.

He would go buy a new bookshelf tomorrow.

* * *

The sky was dark; there was no sun. A flock of birds whistled by. Alfred was standing in front of the stairs of the United States Capitol.

"Mr. Jones?"

His civil officer caught up with him and asked with concern.

"It's nothing." Alfred shook his head and smiled, "I just suddenly realized I don't remember how many times I've set foot in here."

"Then that number must be spectacular." The civil officer smiled too, "After the end of today's meeting, the topic for this week would be concluded too. I hope you can try not to fall asleep."

"That's not something I can control." Alfred shrugged, "Saying they'll do something for the people... but do you think they'll really listen to my opinions?"

"Of course they will."

"Oh, what an optimistic and honest American thought."

"Because we are your people."

"Hmm..." Alfred took some steps and continued climbing up, "Thanks."

Still, Alfred's mind was absent during the entire meeting. He didn't know why, but he felt everything was extremely pointless. The high-sounding excuse was like the declaration made by England at the time of his independence; the hypocritical people like the targets he aimed at with guns. Behind all this history, he still had to move forward. The performance was never-ending. Sometimes he would imagine what it would be like if he had disappeared. Would it be like the civil war that almost split him a hundred years ago (maybe like how it was with the North and South Italy), or like natural disasters?

He was a combination that could not be defined; his destiny was not in his hands. There was a higher existence above him.

"... What do you think, Mr. Jones?"

His name was called. Those officials finally recalled his existence.

"It's great."

He replied casually, having no idea what those people were talking about.

"All right, then this matter is settled."

The official that was embarrassed by his speech last time shot him a glance. Alfred smiled at him, and the other person turned away bitterly.

* * *

He got himself a cup of coffee at break. Having nothing to do, he closed his eyes and sat on the comfortable office chair. The hardworking civil officer was like his full-time nanny, following him around all day during work hours.

"Will you be attending the party this evening?"

"No. I'm going to buy some curtains and bookshelf today."

"Have you moved?"

"Just planning to redecorate the house."

"I suggest it is better to attend the party this evening." The civil officer took a cup of coffee and drank it in one gulp.

"Why?"

"Some important people will be attending the party. They have not seen you for a long time."

"Oh. What's this? A calling?"

The civil officer smiled wryly, "Something must have happened to you recently."

"There's nothing, aside from the fact I can't stand those damn curtains anymore."

"Did Mr. England choose it?"

"So you know." Alfred raised his eyebrows, "Did I mention that to you?"

"You did. You were also complaining back then." The civil officer stacked a pile of official documents on Alfred's table.

"It seems you have a lot of complaints whenever Mr. England is involved."

"Because he's a stubborn bastard."

"The reason why you are troubled recently is because of him?"

"..." The melancholy Alfred didn't reply.

"Regardless, I do wish for you to attend the party tonight. This is rather important." His civil officer emphasized his words.

Alfred laid on the chair for a while before replying, "I'll go. But I hope someone can replace those damn curtains before I get home."

"No problem."

* * *

To be honest, Alfred really didn't think he needed to attend this "rather important" dinner party. He carried martini and moved around at the party, smiling in regards at the wives of the higher officials and exchanging greetings from time to time with congressmen who had put on some weight.

He met with Mr. President and discussed the recent introduction of the new bill. Alfred said it was great and he supports it, but the truth was that he still wasn't clear on what the main point of that meeting in the afternoon was. He also met with the United States Secretary of Defense. They made a military salute to each other, then chatted away. His eyes were brimming with vigor, sharp as the eagle's eyes as always. Although Alfred was in the party, his mind was on whether the curtains were replaced or not, or what color they replaced it with.

If he hadn't gotten into an argument with Arthur, maybe he would feel a little more active. But he only felt like going home now, sitting on the sofa, watching the television and drinking all the beers Arthur had left in his house.

The waiter that passed by was serving drinks. It seemed like the waiter had to deliver all the foods and wine for the buffet to the front of the table in one go, so Alfred decided to help him out. He took the silver platter and the waiter placed the wine on top. Alfred thought he could handle three or four plates, plus a plate of sliced garlic bread as the appetizer. These didn't amount to much weight for him. But Alfred's hands shook when he intended to move and raised his arms, tipping the silver platter in that instance. All the wineglasses and small plates fell onto the floor and shattered.

Alfred stared blankly as the wine spread to his black leather shoes. The waiter was also shocked, leaving quickly to find cleaning tools for clean up. Alfred's civil officer appeared quickly and took Alfred to the side.

"Are you all right?"

"... I'm fine."

Alfred said, staring at his hands. It was like they weren't his anymore.

"Perhaps you need some rest."

"... Can you give me a cup of wine first?"

"Oh. Certainly."

* * *

After sending the civil officer away, Alfred sat alone in a corner of the garden outside. The wind was a bit cold.

The feeling he had when he held the grass cutting machine and the miscalculation of the weight of the books as he sorted out the bookshelf. And how he couldn't carry the wine back then.

He seemed to understand what that weird sensation was.

He lost the superhuman strength he was once so proud of.

* * *

I don't know what's going on. In fact, I have no idea. Why did my strength disappear without me noticing it? Are Arthur's illusions playing pranks on me? Is it retaliation for saying mean things about his friends?

I don't know.

Now I'm sitting in my house and changing the channels on the television in boredom. The curtains were replaced (they replaced it with a sky-blue one, just like the color of my eyes). Those officials think I'm sick, so they want me to stay at home and rest. But apart from losing my superhuman strength, I personally think nothing else is wrong with me. I'm breathing and eating as usual. I'm the same as every normal person.

But I get some time off thanks to this. Maybe I can make good use of this time to solve the problem between Arthur and me. I'm tired of this cold war. I don't care whether he still wants to see me as his little brother or break up. Fuck sex, go to hell!

... So I called him, not expecting him to pick up. Anyways, I had already planned on saying "What a cheap coward you are!" as the first sentence, then have a full on attack against his every criticism about my cowardice. After I finished venting out all my resentment, I would go back to the real issue: why the hell won't you do it with me?

As for an apology? No way!

But unexpectedly, the phone only rang for a few times before Arthur picked it up.

"Arthur Kirkland speaking."

"... Yo."

"How's the weather over there?"

I was surprised he was asking me this. I had thought he would either keep silent or be really cold to me. But Arthur was asking about the weather... my god! The weather topic!

"It's good." Even though I didn't want to admit it, but I still went along with him hopelessly and replied, "What about your place?"

"Not bad."

"... Arthur, even though I believe there's no way you can change the decadent impression of me during my childhood in you mind, but-"

"Oh... Alfred." His voice rang out softly, "Can we talk about this another day?"

"What?"

"You know, we should pay more attention to our own national affairs now."

"I don't need you to remind me about that."

"... Of course." He lowered his tone, but recovered after a moment. "Because you're a hero, right?"

**Holy shit!**

My intuition was shouting at me, but another voice was shrieking with joy: Arthur acknowledged me as a hero!

"Hmm... okay." I thought I must have been swept away by this foolish happiness.

"So we'll solve your physiological problems after we finish dealing with other matters. How's that?"

"Arthur, I think you should go see a psychiatrist..."

"... I'm perfectly fine." He seemed to have said it through clenched teeth.

"No, you really should go. I have some pretty good doctors here. I guarantee those illusions won't be bothering you anymore from now on. I'll go with you the next time you come here for a meeting, hmm?"

Then he hung up on me.

Yup, that's the inflexible Arthur I knew. I suddenly felt relieved. The irritation I had for the past few days had eased up a little. I went to the kitchen and took a jar of coffee while walking with light steps and humming a song. I saw the tea leaves I hadn't thrown away yet at the same time. It wouldn't be long before we made up, so I decided to let them live longer.


	3. Chapter 3

After hanging up the call from Alfred, Arthur flipped through the documents on his table with a distraught mind.

Before Alfred called, Arthur had received a call that was also from the other end of the Atlantic Ocean. It was only an ordinary greeting; the current situation of Alfred was casually mentioned too. He didn't know what the other person's intention was, so he responded politely and inquired with careful wordings.

He admitted that an Englishman-especially a typical Englishman like him was always labeled as an indirect person, but it was also beneficial at the same time. At least he thought the person at the other end couldn't tell what his intention was when he asked questions.

After their quarrel last time, he guessed they were both upset to some degree. Alfred was inattentive, lazy, and absent-minded from time to time during a meeting. This is a warning. Arthur frowned and pondered secretly. The same situation didn't last such a long time for him. He supposed it had already been at least two months. He listened to the other person's tone; they were worried about whether Alfred was sick and whether this situation would continue or not.

He had originally thought perhaps he should call and confirm Alfred's situation, but decided not to after some consideration. Why should he call when Alfred hadn't apologize yet? If he didn't apologize, then there would be no need for Arthur to pay attention to him. In the end, Alfred called him. Under such a rare circumstance, he softened his attitude and decided to put off their cold war. He even said something against his belief-a hero? What a scary word.

But Alfred could still make fun of him (even though it made him really angry), so things were not at the worst yet. He only hoped Alfred could return to his normal self.

* * *

**The Door into Summer**

Alfred continued to stay at home. He was out only when taking a walk in the morning and in the evening. He would take a walk down to the downtown area from time to time. His civil officer would visit him regularly, bringing him documents for him to sign. But his civil officer always replied ambiguously to Alfred's request to go back to work, saying it would be better for him to have more rest.

"I'm really fine." Alfred said with discontent again, "I feel energetic."

"But before the doctor can find the cause, I think it is better for you to stay at home."

"Even if I'm sick, it can't be cured by the medicine for 'a normal person'."

"Yes, that is why we have to be more careful." His civil officer tried to reassure him, "Because you are very important..."

"Oh." Alfred sat down in frustration and helplessness, "How long do I have to stay at home?"

"We are not sure, but hopefully it will be as short as possible."

After hearing this answer, Alfred's bad mood improved.

"We also hope you can try not to travel too far during this period." The civil officer said in addition.

"What?"

"So we can help you immediately when something happens to you."

Alfred thought it was ridiculous, "Nothing's happened to me yet, and you guys already sound like I'll have a car accident or something."

"They're precautionary measures." The civil officer concluded concisely. He picked up the signed documents and put them into his bag. He also took care of the coffee cup on the table, noticing the grids and lines pattern on it. He quietly took the cup downstairs and put it away after washing it in the kitchen, examining Alfred's newly decorated installation in the meanwhile.

"It looks nice."

"What was that?"

Alfred asked curiously after following the civil officer from the small office upstairs. He was wearing his indoor slippers.

"Your new kitchen."

"Oh, I know it looks very nice. No doubt about that." Alfred smiled with pride, "I decided on it after viewing catalogs for a week. I bet Arthur won't have any complaint after seeing it." He walked over to the counter, gesturing with his hands. "The countertop is made from scratch resistant material, so there's no need to worry about leaving any scratches no matter how he wants to torture the food."

His civil officer couldn't help but smile. Alfred then said with even more pride, "To match his weak arms, I chose a cabinet that's not too high for him. Also, he was nagging and complaining about how he doesn't have a place to put the biological weapons he made before, so I installed a bar counter this time. Hmm, I can wait for him on the side and watch him like this so he doesn't blow my kitchen up again. This is the main reason, yup."

Alfred was acting like a child who liked to show off. He was going on about all his plans and ideas, as if their cold war was over and Arthur would be visiting tomorrow.

"... This is a really thoughtful choice." After a while, the civil officer praised sincerely, "I believe it would make Mr. England very happy for sure."

"You think so too?" Alfred gladly accepted the praise, "I always have to make sure he doesn't have any objection about me."

Watching Alfred's satisfied face sideways, the civil officer's smile deepened. His country was like a child whenever he mentioned Mr. England, whether he was complaining, being angry, or... showing off like this.

When he knew he would be appointed as Alfred's subordinate in the beginning, he had some unrealistic fantasies about Alfred indeed. Wouldn't any ambitious, passionate young man inevitably imagine pink light surrounding the image of their country? He knew the personification of his country was a young man. He had seen Alfred's serious work face during meetings. But when he actually became his civil officer, he realized that while Alfred had his shrewd side, he was like a child more often.

Unlike the prudent, distant Mr. England, Alfred was more passionate and fearless. He was straightforward, embarrassing or troubling others from time to time. On the matter of national interest, however, he never made concessions easily. The civil officer never doubted Alfred's awareness as a representation of a country. He also hoped that Alfred - his country - grew as a one that truly upheld justice and conscience in the future (of course he knows it's only an ideal, but the American dream always sounds so nice, doesn't it?).

Alfred's recent situation, however, was worrying him.

The government higher-ups were currently busy investigating the cause to his odd behaviors and physiological changes. Some even suspect it to be a sign of the approaching end of the United States.

But aside from earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, or other ungraspable natural disasters, there were little differences in people's activities. Economic-wise, trades were operating normally; there were no problems with the military or diplomatic influences either.

And Alfred himself was standing in front of him and talking excitedly about his kitchen decoration and the new bookshelf. He wanted to end this cold war early because he planned on taking Mr. England to explore South America on his vacation...

People that fell in love were all blind. The civil officer knew Alfred had been together with Mr. England for twenty-six and a half months and three days. Logically, they should already be far from madly in love with each other. Besides, Alfred wasn't into it this much when they were together in the beginning. It was like he only had eyes for one person and no one else. But wasn't this a normal phenomenon for those that fell in love?

"... I hope you make up with Mr. England soon." The civil officer said with a smile, "I should head back now."

"See ya." Alfred bid him farewell with a smile like a friendly boy from next door.

* * *

_Who is the third who walks always beside you?_

_When I count, there are only you and I together._

_-T.S. Eliot_

* * *

It was eight in the morning.

Alfred's civil officer got up and freshened up, leaving for work at nine o'clock. The meeting started at ten. He was tapping his keyboard, noting down the key points of the meeting. After he finished organizing the data, he would then report it to Alfred. The meeting was adjourned at one. Soon almost all the participants had left, leaving him to revise the report at a slow pace.

"Knock."

There was a moderate tap on the glass door. The civil officer looked up and saw Representative Kingston Lee, the poor guy that had been embarrassed by Alfred last time. The civil officer nodded in greeting and Kingston walked toward him with a smile.

"How diligent."

"I'm just doing my job."

"Yes. How's our 'country' doing?"

"Not bad."

The civil officer didn't stop moving his hands. He was considering which participle would be more appropriate to use for this sentence. Kingston was leaning on the back of the seat next to him, crossing his arms and staring at the words on the laptop screen from the corner of his eyes.

Representative Kingston was around fifty years old. He started out as a basic civil servant, working his way up and overcoming all the difficulties before reaching this position. He was proudest of the fact that he wasn't an elite from the Ivy League. But thanks to his ideal to serve the people and hard work, he pulled through fearlessly.

"What does Mr. Jones generally say when he finished reading these documents?"

"It depends on the situation. He gives positive answers to the good ones, of course, and opposes the bad ones."

"Oh. How simple and clear." Kingston smiled, "I do hope he'll be back to work as soon as possible. One could not relax for one moment when burdened with the people's trust."

"But sometimes proper rest is needed as well. That's what I think." He finally finished the report and sent it.

"I thought as a servant of the people, he wouldn't want to rest."

"Every person needs a break sometimes... Don't you too?"

"Yes, I do. Playing golf from time to time is good for the body and mind. But you see, I am obviously like you, but Mr. Jones is a 'country'. Am I right?"

"But he needs to rest too..."

"Excuse me for putting a reasonable question forward here, but do you really think he's a 'country'?"

"Of course he is."

"And the evidence?"

"He... he's just like a typical American."

"Hey, we're Americans too. This is no evidence. Perhaps you'll say he never ages, or that he sounds like he's reciting a textbook whenever he speaks of history. But that only explains his physical structure is different from us at the most."

"I don't think it's respectable to suspect the identity of Mr. Jones. Perhaps he had angered you before, but that's not a legitimate reason to suspect him now."

Kingston shook his head, "I'm not suspecting him. I'm merely stating a 'fact'. That's the truth. There's no evidence to suggest he's really the so-called 'consciousness of the country' or something. And I - a member of the Congress, is here to speak on the behalf of my voters not because of his consent."

The civil officer refuted, "These are two completely different things. Even if he's a country, he can only control so much."

"Now this is where the paradox is. With no evidence and no basis of public will, what does he represent? 'What' in the world is he? If he's really the so-called 'country', then why do we need elections?"

"Please stop your speculations."

"Mr. Jones is worried recently because of Mr. Kirkland, is he not? Did they have a fight? They finally broke up?"

"I don't know where you got their private information from, but I can't and won't discuss the private affairs of my superior."

"Oh, there's no need. We don't need to discuss about it." Kingston's white hair shined with the light, "As his civil officer, I hope you'll think about it."

"He's together with that Englishman, isn't he? So I suppose he 'loves' Mr. Kirkland. First of all, I have to say I have nothing against homosexuals; I actually support the same-sex marriage act, truth to be told. But when one country falls in love with another country, I don't think it's caused by the people - or our consciousnesses. We have many descendents of the French and Irish people too! Don't you think it's an act of treason that he loves his Englishman? He's betraying the very meaning of his existence, because he betrayed us, the patriots of the country!"

"That's enough, Mr. Kingston Lee!"

The civil officer finally had enough and stood up from his chair, slamming his laptop shut.

"Regarding my boss, or your country, you shouldn't insult him! I hope you can take your anger out on something else, like golf!"

He picked up his laptop and documents, pushing the glass door angrily to leave.

* * *

Alfred clearly felt the inconvenience of losing his superhuman strength. Now he couldn't carry the cupboard in with one hand, and he had to go through all the trouble of using supplementary equipments like jack in order to place it in an ideal position. The renovation of the living room was about done too. He planned to set a precedent by inviting Arthur over once everything was settled. Since Arthur had admitted he was a hero... then it would be nice to do something a hero would do. He laughed in his mind, deciding to put all the unpleasantness and the damn sexual desires aside. After all, they would have to make up first in order for anything else to have a chance to happen. (But maybe he really got carried away by what Arthur said)

Taking a step back (to be honest, he felt he took more than a step back), maybe Arthur really wasn't ready yet. But he had already waited all these years, it wasn't like he couldn't wait longer...

He remembered the thought of "love" towards Arthur emerged during the period of the First World War. Back then, Arthur was still that elated empire on which the sun never set. In comparison, despite having vast lands and resources, he was incomparable with those old guys in Europe in terms of military technology.

After the War of Independence, he also fought many battles with England. Arthur didn't really come to America much in person; he still had to deal with colonies and the war with the French beard. And their cooperation in the First World War gave him some kind of subtle intimacy. It was like the younger brother that ran away from home had come back, and helped out the older brother that had once suppressed him. He wasn't really reluctant, but nor was he voluntary. Germany's indiscriminate U-boats were no doubt one of the reasons, but it was the telegraph intercepted by England that made them decide to move.

Alfred dared not say he never suspected the appearance of the telegraph. Perhaps it was because they couldn't hold the Western Front anymore, so those sly guys fabricated a lie for him to dispatch the troops. But his boss said they would fight the war, so he followed and set off.

The Blitz hadn't happened yet back then. He saw Arthur drinking a can of soup in the trenches, the gun beside him. Arthur's military uniform was somewhat dirty; his boots were full of mud. Arthur saw him too, but he didn't put the can down. Instead, he finished drinking it in one go and wiped his mouth dauntlessly. Despite having many of his people die in this battle, Arthur was still that incarnation of the proud empire.

For some reason, Alfred thought he looked very cool. This is what an empire is like, Alfred thought.

Then they got down to business immediately; Arthur was never careless when it came to official duties. He valued strategies more than tactics. During their stay in the trenches, they were surrounded by British, French and American soldiers. Whenever Arthur walked passed a British soldier, he would call him a soldier. When he walked passed an American, he would call him a brat. He would just say nothing and smile whenever he walked past French soldiers. That smile was in no way of good intention; it would only make people feel like they were ridiculed instead.

Oh, what a mean way to express things, Alfred thought as he observed Arthur.

But it was very Arthur-like. And he thought Arthur criticized them in a pretty clever way (no one would really want to piss their allies off after all- and silence is golden). Arthur didn't stay in the frontline trenches for long; he was transferred to the rear after one month. After all, they had succeeded in defending the Hindenburg Line. There probably wouldn't be any change in the Western Front anymore. Not soon after, Alfred joined the rear too and participated in the Paris Peace Conference.

Arthur was still wrapped in bandages when Alfred saw him again. Francis too, of course. Alfred wasn't really injured himself. Those two old guys were arguing with each other as always. Arthur thought it would be best to treat Germany fairly and unharshly; Francis spread his hands out and said his boss thought otherwise. They had lost too many people. They also needed to get them back this time for the serious humiliation in one of the battles somewhere.

Alfred was listening to their arguments for the whole afternoon in boredom. He agreed with Arthur's opinions more, so he spoke on Arthur's side heroically that time. He noticed Arthur casting him several glances because of this.

Alfred winked at him, but Arthur turned his head away immediately and ignored him.

* * *

Note:

Somehow I feel my grammar fails in this chapter...

Thanks to my summer classes, July has been a busy month of assignments and projects for me.

I'm almost done with them though, so I'll be be able to translate more.  
Next chapter is where things really start to happen! Look forward to it!~


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_In your eyes, I shake, pray, and burn.

* * *

_

Arthur was never particularly intimate toward Alfred in private. They were more alienated back then; everything was merely official contacts between countries. After the First World War ended, America wasn't too happy with the way France insisted on the harsh compensation to Germany. He declared not to be involved in European affairs again. England, the world's financial centre at the time, had been crippled by the Great War. As a result, England's control over his territories had been weakened. His economy was in recession.

Alfred knew the world's focus would gradually shift away from Europe-perhaps it would shift onto him. He was satisfied with this. He liked seeing his people enjoying more of the benefits; he was also excited by the promotion of his status. His people entered the Jazz Age with him. Everything in life was like a smooth, humorous note. Everything seemed so wonderful. In comparison, Europe was still shrouded in the shadow of the post-war recovery, not knowing when happiness could be found again.

Dressed in an appropriately tailored suit, vest, and shirt, Alfred was like any other lively teenagers in this country. His footsteps were cheerful as he took a lady's hand and spun around the dance floor, face shining with glory. Arthur was in a conversation with other important figures. Many countries had joined this party. They were occupied with securing good relationships nonstop in this "after-party" after a busy day.

After one song, Alfred left the dance floor and walked to the side to take a glass of champagne. Unexpectedly, he found Arthur sitting on a chair not too far away from him. Arthur had his back to Alfred; he seemed to be alone.

Alfred would not allow anyone to be alone in his party, so he took another glass of champagne and walked over.

"It's a nice party, don't you think?"

Alfred put down the wine. "We're finally done with the war, so how about having some fun? Even an inflexible guy like you is no exception."

Arthur shot him a glance, picked up the glass and took a sip. "Nothing ends well with such extravagance."

"Hm? I thought economic liberalism came from your place?" Alfred said with a grin. He wasn't surprised to see Arthur's frown deepen.

"Nice." Arthur said, "The brat thinks he's going to take off."

"That's the truth, isn't it?"

Arthur was silent. Alfred shrugged, "How about having a dance?"

"My legs don't feel like torturing itself today."

"Oh, what a shame. I had wanted to see how the 'gentleman', or so they say, dances. But maybe it's just as I thought, you've only been bluffing since the past. Ha ha ha."

"The doubts you have are quite unnecessary." Arthur lowered his head and smiled. Alfred was surprised he wasn't provoked by this.

Arthur left his seat and pulled his collar, making it more upright.

"Perhaps your daft brain does not remember anymore... but don't you know who taught you how to dance?"

Alfred rolled his eyes, "Apparently you did. But I honed it myself more often."

"Such a strong individualism." Arthur said, "Your partner must be really unfortunate to dance with such a self-centered person."

"Oh, Mr. Kirkland, I don't really want to chat about such roundabout topics. The party is for relaxing after all." Alfred replied. He looked at the dance floor. The band seemed to have started a new round of performance. Arthur shot a glance toward the center of the hall too.

They were done with their wine and the conversation. Alfred turned his head back to Arthur.

"Make yourself happier." Alfred said kindly, "Or your eyebrows will get bigger."

Arthur held back the swear words at the tip of his tongue, and left gracefully in good manners.

"What a pretentious guy." Alfred thought as he watched him from the behind.

He danced to many songs for some time after that, failing to notice that pretentious guy's eyes never took off of him while standing by the rail on the second floor.

* * *

**The Door into Summer**

Alfred was sitting in front of the desk in his study, earnestly reading the documents sent by his civil officer. He had already been reading for the whole afternoon, so he figured he should get up and exercise a bit. He rubbed his eyes, turned to the back and looked out the window behind him. The children next door were kicking a red rubber ball; their shepherd dog chasing it happily beside them. After a while, the female owner turned on the lawn sprinkler. The younger boy charged forward in this small shower while shouting. The shepherd dog was also running in the middle of the water drops; its long and curly fur hung wet on its body.

Alfred smiled. He couldn't help but think maybe he could keep a pet too. In that case, this house should be livelier. If Arthur came over, they could take a walk together with the dog and throw a frisbee for it to chase after in the park. Perhaps Arthur would knit a blanket or something for their dog; he could do the needlework anyway. It was incredibly strange.

His civil officer had told him he would come over after work to pick up the documents Alfred had dealt with. Alfred had some time to spare, so he decided to phone Arthur again. After their supposed "pleasant" conversation last time, Alfred was feeling extremely confident that they would make up. If the situation went well, perhaps the call he was about to make would successfully invite Arthur over so he could praise the new decoration (and prove it was a right decision to replace the curtains while he's at it). The call connected immediately. The familiar response rung in his ears and made his heart itch.

"The hero's here!"

"Don't get too cocky with me." Arthur's voice sounded somewhat flat through the phone.

"You admitted it yourself, so don't tell me you forgot. The hero won't take any objection."

"What is it?"

"Just thought about calling you." Alfred replied honestly, "Being grounded doesn't feel good at all."

"Oh." Arthur paused, his sound coming back after a while, "I'm a bit busy here, can we talk about this another time?"

"Let me see.. it should be 10 pm in London right now. Don't tell me you're busy preparing a strip show?"

"No... I really meant it. I'm busy."

"It sounds pretty quiet over there. Are you home?"

"Yes."

"..." Alfred thought for a moment, "Don't tell me you have a guest over."

"Indeed I do."

"... Do I know the person?"

"You don't. All right, there's nothing more to say about this. I'm hanging up."

"Arthur." Alfred's voice sounded serious, "You..."

Before he could finish his sentence, he heard someone calling Arthur.

"Baby~ what are you doing?"

Because the voice sounded far away, Alfred couldn't tell if the person was male or female. He grabbed the phone in surprise and questioned, "Who's that?"

"You don't need to know." Arthur's voice sounded a little irritated, "I'll be right back!" He yelled at that person.

"Oh, okay. Hurry up. My baby really misses that soft, little place of yours~"

"What the hell are you doing, Arthur?"

"It's none of your concern." Arthur's tone was cold, "I'm hanging up."

"It's really over between us if you hang up right now!"

"Oh, that suits me just fine." Arthur said flatly, "To be honest, I'm tired of it. In that case, I'll take the time to make it clear for you now. You're a brat who never learnt your place. There's no way I'll love you. In other words, I don't love you since the start. Am I clear? I don't love you. All right, I'm hanging up now. Good night."

* * *

Memories are just like snowflakes that are blown into the sea of time. If you don't pick it up and preserve it, it will melt away sooner or later. Alfred's feeling toward Arthur was like this.

Ever since they were together, Alfred was always the one to take the initiative. Maybe it was really because he was "younger", so he expressed his emotions more directly. He didn't really mind that much about this drawback with Arthur. After all, dealing with Arthur or liking Arthur required many talents itself. For instance, eat the food he made and not foam at the mouth (and he was already used to it since he was little. In fact, he didn't really think it was that bad). Second, have the ability to ignore the atmosphere, so he could disregard the words said by Arthur that meant the opposite.

But he knew Arthur was in love with him as well, even though the way he expressed his concern was clumsy, and Alfred himself didn't receive his kindness often. Still, even if there were uncertainties in this relationship, he never doubted that Arthur would deceive him and pretend they were going out. In his knowledge, Arthur seemed to lack interest in this kind of relationship. If he really didn't love him (regardless of what kind of love it was), then there was no way they would be together in private even if another hundreds of years had passed. Arthur's personality was difficult to deal with after all.

He didn't know why he paid more attention to Arthur's whereabouts since that party. Whenever another meeting or dinner party was held, he would always divert some of his attention to observe what Arthur was doing. So if Alfred was asked why he would go from slightly noticing Arthur to loving him, he would say he didn't know how to explain it either.

Perhaps it was because of his tone, or because of the obviously ridiculing smile as he squinted his eyes, or because of the mouth that was never honest. Or maybe it was because he had always helped him unintentionally or intentionally, or because of the way he looked into the distance-everything about him was as charming as mellow wine.

This feeling towards Arthur was unlikely from the time they spent together when he was a teenager. That was too distant and dreamlike. At the same time, Alfred didn't think he had the spare energy to be caught between war and love.

In short, he loves him. That was the one thing he was sure of. And he planned on telling him one day.

Now that he thought about it, that fateful evening was like a dream. After the world meeting was over that day, Alfred invited Arthur out under false pretenses. He had believed this would be quite difficult, but it was actually easier than he thought it would-as long as the reason was legitimate. Take the following example:

America wants to discuss national affairs with England.

Even though he had agreed to it, and the car was already parking outside the restaurant, Arthur still thought it wasn't a good idea to have dinner with Alfred face to face in the fancy restaurant. He wasn't in the mood to appreciate the live violin perfomance, let alone taking a good look at the menu. Sitting in front of him was Alfred, chatting away with the waiter happily and ordering his food presumptuously in passing.

After finishing the talk with the waiter, Alfred smiled and faced Arthur, "Even though I think fast food tastes good, but it's nice to come here occasionally and cooperate with the act you're putting on."

"Only a brat would think that kind of unhealthy food is delicious." Arthur criticized bluntly.

Alfred's smile deepened, "If a championship of pretension was ever held, I bet you'll get a pretty high ranking for sure."

Arthur ignored him, staring at the plate and silverwares placed in front of him as if intending not to waste his breath.

"The champagne here is nice. If you can control your alcohol addiction, let's order one?"

"No thanks. Champagne is for celebration. There's nothing worth celebrating for today."

"Not necessarily." Alfred refuted, not quite agreeing with him. "You never know when you'll suddenly encounter a worthy surprise, don't you think?"

"To be honest, I don't really like something as rude as surprises."

"What?" Alfred widened his eyes in disbelief, "My god, your brain makes me very curious. What is it made up of?"

"Right back at you." Arthur said bluntly, "I'm really curious as to why you grew up into such a daft and arrogant person."

"Weren't you the one that taught me?"

"What! You weren't so-" He didn't finish his sentence. Arthur swallowed the words back after being agitated, "... Never mind."

"You finally realized it's meaningless to talk about the things in the past all the time?" Alfred made the conclusion in satisfaction. The waiter happened to pass by their table, so he really ordered a bottle of champagne.

Arthur only wanted to finish the dinner and leave. Perhaps it was true that he was usually concerned about Alfred. Perhaps it was true that he missed the time in the past in his heart, but whatever it was, he didn't want it to be like this now... face to face together with this Alfred with nowhere to hide. The wine came soon, the appetizer placed on their table later.

"Cheers."

Alfred picked up the wineglass. Arthur raised his wineglass together unwillingly (but still with good manners). Their cups gave off a crisp sound because of the collision.

"All right. I think it's about time you explain the purpose for inviting me over."

"To have a meal. With you. It's this simple."

Alfred forked a small piece of cheese into his mouth. Arthur felt uncomfortable with the way his azure eyes were looking at him.

"Are you nervous? I won't do anything."

"There's nothing to be nervous about!" Arthur replied angrily, "I just want to end this meal as soon as possible now!"

Alfred forked a piece of lettuce up again. "Oh." He only replied in one syllable this time, as if he never knew how to tell the other person's emotions. Alfred recovered soon.

"Actually, I do have... some things I want to tell you."

Arthur's nerve tensed suddenly. He swung the spoon in his hand unconsciously, his eyes moving up and down with the rhythm of the spoon.

"But you don't like surprises. So I think maybe it's better not to say it..."

"Better spill whatever is on your mind right now. I can't guarantee staying until the end."

Alfred seemed somewhat anxious after hearing this reply, "Arthur, hey... All right, all right. I'll try not to provoke your sensitive nerve. Stay until the end."

Arthur gave a snort of dissatisfaction, "Just say it. What 'surprise' do you want to tell me?"

Arthur didn't hear any reply for three minutes after the end of this sentence. He looked at Alfred in suspicion. His expression was strange. Under the tablecloth, Alfred secretly clenched his fist, relaxed again, and repeated the same process. After discovering Arthur was becoming impatient again, he decided to say what was hidden in his mind for so long. He had to stare at Arthur's ridiculously big eyebrows as much as possible in order to have the nerve to say it. At least he wouldn't feel that the words he was about to say sounded too ridiculous.

"I... um, maybe I want you to be together with me."

"What? As long as we still have the North Atlantic Treaty, we'll work together for as long as you like."

Oh, please. "... What I mean is, together as in kiss you until you're out of breath. That kind."

Alfred stared nervously at his own plate. The tomatoes stacked on the slices of bread were flattened into a mush with a spoon by him.

After about a minute, Arthur responded as if he had suddenly woke up.

"... Oh." After a while, he was expressionless. It was impossible to tell the slightest of signs. Then he said with a flat tone, "Excuse me, I want to go to the toilet." He dropped his napkin and left his seat.

Uh! Does that mean he's rejecting me?

Being left behind, Alfred was in no mood to eat anymore. He didn't know whether he should chase after Arthur or wait for him to come back here. Even though he really wanted to carry out the first option, he eventually decided to stay in his heat and wait.

When he was only a few steps away from the toilet, Arthur quickened his pace so that he was practically running. He covered his mouth and rushed to the washstand. In an instant, all the food he had just eaten came out as vomit. He was still retching continuously even after he had vomited everything out, as if he would only be content until he vomited the gastric acid up. His mouth was full of the acidic stench from the vomit. Because of his vomiting action, his lacrimal gland began secreting tears. He continued to shed tears uncontrollably.

Then he turned on the tap, washing the filths that weren't much in the first place down the drain immediately with the strong jet of water. He cupped the water with his hands and splashed it onto his face. It was impossible to tell whether it was water or tears that fell from his face.

He stayed in the toilet for a long time. The people beside him came and went, but he only concentrated on staring at his emerald eyes in the mirror. Time passed slowly, never waiting for anyone. Then he finally took a step and left.

While waiting, Alfred had been looking anxiously in the direction of the bathroom. So when Arthur finally came out, he noticed Arthur's pale face immediately. He questioned urgently as soon as Arthur sat down.

"Are... you okay?"

"Can't be any better." Arthur replied.

"Then..."

"Please give us another bottle of champagne." Arthur said suddenly to the waiter on the side. Alfred looked at him in surprise.

"You can celebrate now." Arthur said, his voice sounding somewhat weak. "Cheers."

* * *

They were together just like that. The dealings between them had always been low-key. Only those close them would notice they were together. Sometimes Alfed would want to do something further like other couples would, but Arthur could always avoid it skillfully.

_You can't cross that line. Don't ask why. Don't think about it. Just stay at the point where we're still able to control._

When you open your eyes, the light you see is not necessarily sunlight. The me you see may not be me. This is not true. The world is outside the world. Words cannot be trusted. Hope will always only be hope.

_Please don't do this to me. Don't betray me._

... And there's only one thing I had hoped for, from the beginning to the end.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

It was pitch dark when the civil officer arrived in Alfred's house. He came later than expected because he had bought a hamburger takeout for Alfred on the way here. Ever since Alfred had been banned from leaving his house, he was always in a bad mood. Something small like this should cheer him up.

He rang the doorbell and the automatic door opened immediately.

"Mr. Jones?"

The light from the hallway to the living room wasn't on. The civil officer thought it was rather strange, since he knew Alfred didn't like the darkness. He would leave a small lamp on in the hallway even when he wasn't downstairs. But there were sounds coming from upstairs, so he went up directly to the study where Alfred worked.

Once he was upstairs, he saw the door to the study blocking half of the room. Alfred was packing up inside.

"Mr. Jones!"

"Oh, sorry. You came upstairs."

Alfred stopped moving his hands and turned around. He looked even younger when he wasn't wearing the pair of glasses.

"What are you..."

"I'm packing up." Alfred continued his words, "Yup, that's right, I'm going out."

"But you cannot go out yet!"

"I remember there's an article in the Bill of Rights that says people have the right to enjoy personal freedom, right? Besides, I'm not breaking any law."

"But," The civil officer said uncertainly, "but you are an exception..."

"Oh." Alfred sighed in irritation, "An exception. But this is an 'exception' too! Damn it, I have to take a trip to London!"

"London? You mean the London in England?"

"Where else." Alfred responded in an impatient tone, "That bastard!"

It was about Mr. England again. The civil officer opened his mouth, wanting to say something but unable to produce any sound. He watched blankly as Alfred threw his key, clothing and wallet into the bag carelessly and zipped it up with a sudden force.

"Sorry, can you book a plane ticket for me? Preferably one that leaves before midnight."

"But..."

"I'm sorry for the trouble, telling you to do something like this. I know this isn't part of your job..." Alfred said, "But I broke my laptop by accident." The civil officer's gaze followed Alfred's gesture to the table, "My hand slipped while drinking water, so the keyboard is ruined."

The civil officer nodded understandingly, but he wasn't sure whether he should help him out or not.

"Mr. Jones, I think it's better to inform the higher-ups about this. It's not appropriate to leave at a time like this without approval..."

"If I need their 'approval' to leave, they'll probably catch me, dissect me and inspect me thoroughly before giving up." Alfred spat out, "What's with this ban? Oh, like I'm some kind of pet they owned!"

"That is because you are a country!" The civil officer refuted, "You are our 'country', it is our duty to protect you and yours to protect yourself!"

"... Sorry, I went overboard." Alfred rubbed his eyes. He felt really tired, "But I really need to go right now. No matter what."

"No matter what?"

"Yes. No matter what."

Seeing Alfred's firm attitude, the civil officer crossed his arms and thought for a while.

"I... still think you should report to the higher ups. I will find a plane ticket for you in the meanwhile. I hope you understand we cannot let anything happen to you... so before we are certain that everything is all right, can you please-"

"Ha! What a free 'country' this is!" Alfred broke him off loudly, "But I'm the least free out of all the people!"

"No, that is not it, we are only-"

"You guys have your considerations, I have mine!"

"... But you are us, are you not?"

The civil officer looked at him, an odd silence spreading out with the two of them at the center.

"... Yes, I am..." After a while, Alfred finally spoke up, "But..."

Alfred sat down in frustration, placing his elbow on the table and his hands to his forehead, "But Arthur..."

"Please do not think about Mr. England for the moment." The civil officer said, "You should pay more heed to state matters, right? "

"... Okay." Alfred replied ambiguously.

"Mr. Jones." The civil officer said in all seriousness, "Please promise me that you will not leave without permission before receiving a reply, all right?"

Alfred didn't respond. He only stared at the computer keyboard he broke and bit his lips. So the civil officer sought his assurance again.

"... I already dealt with the paperworks." Alfred finally replied.

"I'll wait for your good news."

Alfred saw the civil officer off in the hallway, saying farewell with a smile as usual. That smile seemed somewhat weak; the civil officer could tell he was really upset. After going back on his car, he saw Alfred waving goodbye at him through the rear-view mirror. The waving stopped when he drove to the end of the street and left this community.

* * *

**The Door into Summer**

The civil officer delivered the message to the higher-ups as they promised. He was staring at the computer screen and searching for a plane ticket at the same time. He held the mouse with his palm to move the mouse, with the cursor following up and down as well. He opened one window after another and felt he couldn't calm himself down. Something must have happened between Alfred and Mr. England again. And it was something serious, causing Alfred's odd reaction. He tried to imagine the possible reasons and explanations desperately, yet he couldn't eliminate the shadow that occupied his mind.

**"He loves that Englishman, so he's betraying the very meaning of his existence!"**

Kingston's words dashed back and forth repeatedly in his mind, accelerating the clicking of the pages.

_"What's with this ban? Oh, like I'm some kind of pet they owned!"_

Alfred was right. He's their country, and government officials are the civil servants of the state. But a country is formed by the people, and civil servants are the people that formed him as well...

**"What in the world is he? Just 'what is' he?"**

He's a "country", or rather, consciousness. No, no, he's more than that-

_"You guys have your considerations, I have mine!"_

Who was it that said all human beings are born free and equal? Then what if he was something that was created by men? He has the form of a human being and emotions. He can love and be loved, but he's not free? In this very place that belongs to him!

He suddenly heard a loud ring. He stopped searching and picked up the phone.

The person on the other end of the phone told him his country had gone missing.

* * *

_Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,_

_I will fear no evil, for you are with me;

* * *

_

Shadows were flickering on the intercontinental highway late at night. Alfred opened all the car windows, allowing the air of the summer night to flow in and blow his hair into a mess. He didn't care. It didn't matter anymore.

This is great. Human beings can't live without air, can't live without food, can't live without money, can't live without love, can't live without freedom; he thought he had everything, when in fact he had nothing. He switched from the pop music channel to the classical channel on the radio. Arthur always loved listening to the kind of opera which people screamed at the top of their voices. Now he thought maybe he would end up liking it too. It was a really pleasant torture to hear others sound like the way water whistles in a boiled kettle and not have to hurt his own vocal cord. It could also vent his feelings, or rather, make him even more excited.

He didn't know how much time was left. He looked at the monitor. In various meanings, he was chasing time and others were chasing him.

His cell phone suddenly rang. He was going to ignore it, but it kept on ringing persistently. Not even the screaming soprano on the radio could suppress the noises that damn little black machine were making. Alfred freed one hand and rummaged through the mess on the right seat. He grabbed the phone; the number was not displayed on the screen.

Ha! Is it from those CIA that always made loopholes?

He pressed down the talk button without hesitation. The person on the other end swore right at that moment.

"Fuck you! What are you doing, Alfred?"

"Hey, babe," It's Arthur, "How many times did you fuck yesterday?"

"Wanker! Where are you now?"

"Let me think, 495. This number should be smaller compared to how many people you slept with, right?"

"Stop yapping away about those things! Alfred! You're really an insufferable git!"

"Oh, so it's my fault again. So how many people have fucked that dirty asshole of yours? Or how many have you fucked? More than four hundred and ninety-five? Or less than four hundred and ninety-five?"

"... I only have you! Only you! For fuck's sake! Alfred! Don't do anything stupid!"

"Ha, that has got to be the funniest thing I've ever heard. Ha, ha, ha, ha; hey, I've already pretended I was fooled, you can say more, I don't care!"

"I'm not lying to you! Wanker!" Arthur shouted, "Alfred, stop before things haven't gotten to the worst yet, fuck it all, I'm begging you!"

"I think you know, it has been two years after all. Wow! I actually endured your horrible cooking for two years! If you include the past, then I really should be listed in the Guinness Book of World Records! I enjoy challenging my limit! Overcoming my limit!"

"I know!"

"You know!"

With no other choice, Arthur swore again then inhaled deeply, "Alfred, don't be like this... your civil officer told me it will put you in a dangerous situation... you know, those responsibilities and duties-"

"The hell with those!" Alfred slapped the horn in the centre of the steering wheel hard. Its piercing honk broke the silence of the night on the road. As if he felt this much noise wasn't enough, Alfred accelerated the engine so he could speed to his heart's content.

"Maybe I won't even see tomorrow's sun!"

For a while, he could only hear rapid breathing on the other end of the cell phone. Arthur was no longer shouting, but when he spoke again it was as if they had jumped over a century and the time had changed, "Wait for me."

"What for? You're coming over so I can fuck you?"

"Anything's fine." Arthur said, "It doesn't matter anymore."

"What do you mean it doesn't matter anymore? Yesterday wasn't good enough for you, so you want to satisfy yourself with your 'little brother'?"

"You're not my younger brother. I'm not your older brother either... I understand that better than anyone." Arthur's voice calmed down, "We don't have a real blood relationship like normal people do at all."

"I thought you'll mind that our people do. Oh, if they're still my people."

"I'll find you, no matter where you are." Arthur ignored Alfred's taunt. He only restated again slowly, "Wait for me, Alfred. If you still love me."

"... Then do you love me?"

"I'll tell you."

* * *

Note:

I think this is the shortest chapter for this fic... But a lot of things happened.  
By the way, I'm surprised no one commented on Arthur's reaction to Alfred's confession in the last chapter.  
(Oh, and just so everyone's clear, that last part in chapter four was said by Arthur.  
The next chapter will give away clues to what's going on with Arthur!~

Any review would be appreciated. :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6-1**

"The whole of this world, is only object in relation to the subject, perception of the perceiver, in a word, representation."

- _The World as Will and Representation_ by Arthur Schopenhauer

* * *

Arthur came earlier than dawn, riding in the midst of a mist. The workers in the harbor had already started working early in the morning. They were shouting and carrying cargo in good order. After months of travel, the cargo from England arrived safely in the American continents. The heel of Arthur's boots tapped the deck, and he walked off the ship rhythmically and sonorously.

A carriage was already prepared on the side. He nodded in greeting to the reception personnel in a black top hat and got into the carriage in an unhurried manner. From here to that house-their house-should take about more than one hour. He could take the time and close his eyes for a short rest. Even though he was excited because of the upcoming meeting, he still decided it would be wise to take a nap. He would deal with that big boy in full energy later. Oh, no, their relationship is not the same anymore.

Arthur closed his eyes and leaned toward the window. The cool wind swept past his face and blew at the short hair on his forehead. He loves me. He silently muttered in his mind with happiness.

Yes, they became lovers since his last visit.

At this moment, the world was nothing to be feared.

* * *

**The Door into Summer**

-18th Century-

* * *

"Al?"

After he had just got off the carriage, Arthur couldn't wait and walked into the residence hall as he took off his gloves.

"Al?" He shouted again.

The sky was blue. Layers of leaves couldn't stop the sunshine from entering inside and leaving half-moon shaped bright spot on the floor. The summer weather in the American continents was nice. In comparison, England's weather was still volatile at the moment on the other side of the ocean. The sun was always concealed by layers of cloud like a poor little girl.

Their house was surrounded by blooming flowers such as deep-blue gentians, white Lisianthus, leopard lilies, and Moroccan roses. Small shrubs were all around the flowers. Not far from the backyard garden was a boulevard, looking like a dark-green shadow from afar at this moment. It was placed right beneath the skirt of the clouds.

Arthur didn't hear a reply, so he decided to take a look directly in the direction of the backyard. When he had just left the shaded spot, another shadow suddenly pounced toward him without warning. The power of the impact was too much, causing Arthur to be unable to stand firm for the moment. His body was about to fall backwards-

"Phew! I caught you!"

A pair of warm and strong arms caught his waist just in time. Arthur recognized who the owner of these arms was right away. Standing against the sun, Alfred's bright smile was illuminating him munificently. And the shadow that had just pounced toward him first stuck its head between the two of them. It stuck its tongue out and licked Arthur's face passionately.

"Hey! Andrew! Don't take Arthur from me!"

Alfred yelled exasperatedly. He extended his hands out, wanting to pry the overexcited shepherd dog off him. Arthur, on the other hand, was laughing as he dodged its hot tongue. After a while, Alfred finally got this dog to leave Arthur and took the space that originally belonged to him.

"When did you have the dog?" Arthur moved Alfred's slightly long bangs behind his ears for him affectionately then gave his cheek a kiss.

"A week ago." Alfred looked somewhat proud. "He's a good buddy! Aside from charging too fast sometimes..."

"Just like his owner."

Alfred pouted, "I'm better than Andrew. At least I know you don't like being licked." Then he quickly gave a peck on Arthur's lips.

"You like my kisses, right?"

Arthur called him a brat, but his cheeks and ears were all rose-colored.

"Hey, why don't we go in and get something to drink?" Alfred said after giving Arthur a hug and pulled away from each other.

"All right." Arthur nodded somewhat reluctantly. God, he was already beginning to think these hugs weren't enough.

"It's not a bad idea indeed."

* * *

Alfred was a very important existence to Arthur. The vast resources in the America were certainly one major cause, but in terms of the present, it was more important that he could focus all his attention on the person he loved. Forget about wars, the economy, politics, rights, all those unpleasant things... He was fine with just looking at the person before him.

Alfred's confessions always came unexpected ever since he was little. When he was still small, he would use his little hands to weave a flower crown and put it on Arthur's head with joy. Then his rosy lips would give Arthur's cheek a kiss, saying "I love you!"

Or when he was a little older, they went fishing in the lake together. Arthur carried the food basket as he walked behind; Alfred was bouncing in front of him and talking about what happened when they were apart. After going through the forest, they picked a spot beside the lake and sat down. Arthur taught Alfred how to cast the fishing rod and how to put the bait on. Alfred learned really fast, but he was impatient. Arthur would tell him to calm down and wait, not knowing whether he should laugh or be angry. Alfred would always tell him: "Drop dead, Arthur! Wait!". He sat on the stone and pouted unhappily, but he stopped fidgeting and didn't make any trouble.

After a while, his fishing rod started moving. Due to his previous failures, Alfred knew he had to carefully time when to pull the fishing rod up this time. Then he calculated the timing and pulled vigorously-succeeding in hooking a trout!

He yelled happily. Arthur was praising him in cooperation. Alfred took the fish off the hook and threw it into the creel before announcing loudly: "I name him Schubert!"

He was like a little conqueror, jumping onto the rock which Arthur was sitting on with the fishing rod in his hands. "Arthur!"

"Hmm?"

"I really love you!" He said proudly.

* * *

Alfred grew up really fast. Shortly thereafter, he had no idea when Alfred grew to about the same height as him. After hearing Alfred's countless crazy ideas since he was little and seeing all kinds of adventures and whims of his, Arthur thought nothing could scare him anymore. If you had seen a child "lift" a bison and swing it around happily, then what else would surprise you while he grew up?

He was indeed a blessed lad. Whenever Arthur was with Alfred, he would always unconsciously forget that taking resources was his purpose for coming here in the beginning. He put his heart down inadvertently. He taught Alfred how to dance. Alfred put his arm around his waist awkwardly, and they twirled in the living room. Arthur told him to count the beat in his mind to move forward and backward. He also had to take care of the feet he couldn't take back in time, allowing his body to move gracefully along with the rhythm. Turn around, start, and nod in greeting.

Learning this would be convenient at social occasions, Arthur said.

Alfred gave him an embarrassed smile. But I don't like those occasions. They're too formal, it's boring.

Arthur said sternly, you have to participate in it whether you like it or not. It's necessary.

Alfred let go of the arm that was holding Arthur and walked toward the table where the kettle was somewhat unhappily. Arthur walked forward as well and accepted the water cup handed over by Alfred.

Arthur. Alfred said, his voice sounding a little melancholy.

Hmm?

I don't want to...

Don't want to what?

Alfred held the water cup silently. After a few seconds, he patted his own face. When he looked up again, his cerulean eyes were shining.

If I really have to dance, I only want to dance with you.

Arthur found this ridiculous; what's the point of dancing with me? Wouldn't that lose the fun in dancing?...

No, it won't. Alfred said seriously. I love you.

I love you too. You've said this countless of times since you were little.

That's not it...

Alfred put his hand on his forehead in frustration.

Drop dead! Arthur!

I love you... I really do! So I don't want to dance with anyone else!

Then he left the room while striding angrily, leaving Arthur stunned by himself.

* * *

It was silent during dinner time. Alfred refused to look straight at him the entire time. Arthur wasn't familiar with what to do in a situation like this. Even though he had existed for a long time, but to be like this... sentimental? Naive? Anyways, the words were like frankincense, making people reluctant to let it go. When these words were targeted to him, he didn't know what to do instead. He didn't have a good relationship with his brothers and the European countries couldn't be trusted. He never really had the experience of having something occupy his heart. His mind had been filled with his people and benefits.

Arthur felt like he was drifting in a sea of honey. Those sweet buzzing sounds lingered in his ears continuously.

He covered himself completely in bed sheet. In the darkness, he opened his eyes and spoke to himself repeatedly. Alfred said he loves him.

Oh, it's a little different this time. It's... that kind of love.

He loves me?

He loves me.

... **He loves me!**

Oh God!

He gasped for a breath. The air inside the bed sheet were becoming thinner gradually. The sudden happiness made him need more fresh air. He took off the bed sheet vigorously so he could breathe all he wanted. After staring blankly at the carving on the top of the bed for a while, Arthur thought of how to respond to Alfred.

They were brothers, but not real brothers in that sense. They were more like a teacher and student that had a large age gap. The student gradually caught up with the teacher's pace. They could keep pace with each other and expand England's influence together. As long as Alfred was England's colony, they could be together forever.

Together forever!

No wars and no schemes, he could hug each other to his heart's content and not have to worry about betrayal. This would be his resting place, where he stores his heart...

Such imagination made him a little dizzy. He exhaled deeply and started giggling.

Does he love Alfred? Why's there a need to ask?

If he didn't love Alfred, he wouldn't come see him right after he finished his business in Europe. He loved everything about Alfred, from his smile to the childish side of him, and from the eyes that resembled the sky to the somewhat crooked little toe on his feet. Arthur loved the breath exhaled by him when he moved close and the lips that said he loves him. It made him want to kiss him.

Arthur closed his eyes in satisfaction. I love you. He muttered to himself.

It's really the most beautiful thing in the world.

* * *

The next morning, he found Alfred in the stable. Alfred had just came back from horse riding. He had his back to Arthur in awkwardness and began adjusting the saddle. Arthur's palm was sweating; he felt nervous about what he was about to say as he watched Alfred from the behind. Al. He said after a while... Let's have something to eat?

I'm not hungry. Alfred said stubbornly.

Arthur panicked a little. He wasn't sure whether Alfred was angry or he regretted what he said yesterday.

He hoped Alfred could turn around and let him take a good look at him.

There's your favourite apple pie, and bacons that are just fried...

I meant it, I'm not hungry. Alfred finally turned in his direction, but he was still unwilling to look straight in his eyes. They stayed in the stable while the sun slowly moved its body from this strand of grass to that strand of grass. Alfred lowered his gaze and watched as ants climbed over his feet to Arthur's shoe tip. If Arthur wasn't going to say anything, Alfred would guess he had been completely rejected so far. He was so upset he only wanted to leave as soon as possible, find a wall, and give it a hard kick. He wanted to see if the foot pain could divert his attention.

Arthur moved and stepped forward just as the ants made an attempt to climb up Arthur's boots.

He muttered some slurred words softly, then grabbed Alfred and gave him a deep kiss as if he had abandoned every fear and worry.

Alfred widened his eyes. He shut them immediately as he deepened this kiss together.

The sun had finally left the stable completely. Shadows were rising like water. Voices were grinding with each other; curly eyelashes were quivering.

A world is outside the world, and love was right here.

They had nothing to fear.

* * *

The grammar in this chapter almost killed me...  
Now the story's moving on to talk about what happened in the past.  
Instead of clearing some things up, I guess more questions are thrown out in this chapter, huh? Well, all the questions will be answered in the end.

By the way, I'll be changing the rating from T to M next chapter...


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 6-2**

Andrew laid on the living room floor, letting out a low growl in its sleep. Arthur was startled by this and turned around. He found out it may have just been dreaming.

Alfred had just came back from outside. He brought back a deer from the hunt in the afternoon and planned to have the cook make something with it-the deer had already died as food once, it would be pitiful if Arthur was to handle the cooking. As he stepped into the room, he discovered Arthur had put down the book on his hand and was staring at Andrew. He put his hands on Arthur's shoulder.

"What is it?"

Arthur turned around and gave him a smile.

"I'm thinking about whether Andrew dreams or not."

"I think he does." Alfred squatted down and observed his beloved dog, or rather, "their" beloved dog. He pulled on Andrew's ear.

"Hey, buddy. Tell me what you dreamt of."

Arthur laughed out as he watched Alfred's action.

"... Oh. You found a lost lamb? Hmm?" Alfred leaned over gently, listening to its grunts as it breathed.

"Uh-huh... I see... The lamb did nothing on the grasslands the whole afternoon... You think he's bored..."

"What? You want him to play with you?"

"No, buddy. You know the lamb can always handle being by himself. And he has to go back to the farmhouse when the night falls..."

Alfred pretended to be serious and discussed with the dog. Arthur knew Andrew didn't say anything at all. Even if it did, he didn't believe Alfred would be able to understand.

"... Okay. I can do that for you." He got up from the floor and walked over to Arthur as if he had made some kind of agreement with Andrew.

"Hmm? Al-Alfred!"

Arthur yelled in surprise when he was being lifted high up. The culprit loudly declared in righteousness:

"In order to protect our sheep Arthur, it's time for him to return to the farmhouse and eat!"

He had Arthur in his arms and dashed toward the dining hall like a rampaging bull. Arthur was screaming at Alfred to put him down all the way, but the lad was already addicted to this game and ignored him.

"The hero made a promise with Andrew. The mission must be accomplished!"

"Wanker! Git!" Arthur yelled until he found himself laughing. "Put me down this instance! Andrew didn't say that at all!"

"No way! He said it clearly! He said Alfred brought back a game for some extra food, but Arthur was still reading his book! And studying whether he dreams or not! God!" Alfred relayed Andrew's words in details, "He wanted to grab the meat on the table at once already!"

Arthur leaned on Alfred's shoulder and couldn't hold back his laughter. He hugged Alfred tightly; all of a sudden kisses were scattered on his forehead, the corner of his eyes and between his nose. When they stopped in front of the door to the dining room, a kiss finally landed on the spot Alfred was waiting for. They were competing with each other on who would be out of breath first. Arthur's agile tongue slid into Alfred's mouth, and Alfred's tongue tip licked over his teeth, unwilling to be outdone.

Arthur was intoxicated with this kiss and discovered sensitively that Alfred's hands were moving restlessly on his chest. He didn't mind. At least he didn't have time to mind in the presence of this kiss. So Alfred's somewhat rough hands were placed on his chest, and Arthur's hands moved toward Alfred's waist.

Naturally, they ended up leaning against the corner of the wall. Arthur was holding Alfred's thick golden skull, allowing him to rip his shirt off and kiss his chest as much as he liked. When Alfred was sucking on the tip of his nipple, Arthur's face was flushing. He lowered his head and panted uncontrollably. His brain couldn't function properly. With the pleasure, he could only think about something like "fuck me already" or "let me fuck him". Dinner? The corner of a wall behind the door? What's that?... When your lover was about to lick your belly button!

Alfred almost pulled his pants all the way down. Arthur still grabbed his belt several times symbolically, but he soon gave up in weak will. He had to admit that he was looking forward to the pleasure that Alfred could bring for him. It would make him feel like lightning had struck him numb from his scalp to his toes. In the end, he could only bend his legs weakly on the floor, allowing Alfred to spread his body out and enjoy it wantonly.

But he thought somewhat difficultly, first time... in the corner of a wall... a servant may pass through at any time...

Alfred's tongue moistened his tip again, almost making him scream.

_Uh... this doesn't seem good... no... This is bad... Al... Do-don't lick there... ah... here... hmm..._

When he was about to lose it, the sudden crisp ring of a bell surprised the both of them. They maintained their position. Alfred was going to caress Arthur, who had slid down already. They listened intently to the sound inside the room. After a while, they only heard the sounds of plate clashing and the voices of maids conversing. It seemed the ring was only a message to notify a dish had already been prepared. They turned their heads back and looked at each other. Alfred gave him another lick when he wasn't paying attention. Arthur shivered and came on Alfred's hand.

Arthur's whole body weakened and he sat down on his pants. Alfred seemed to think the feeling of having the milky white liquid on his hands was interesting. He actually curled his fingers into a fist then spread them out.

"Wipe it off already!"

Arthur wanted to make his voice sound a little intimidating, but the voice that came out sounded hoarse and quiet like a cat's meow.

"Why?" Alfred asked puzzledly, "This is our precious first time souvenir!"

"Bloody wanker!" Arthur grabbed Alfred's hand and took out a handkerchief from Alfred's left pocket. Then he forced Alfred to spread his hand out and wiped on his fingers one by one with a serious face.

"Ah-you wiped it all off-" Alfred said unhappily. Arthur gave him a stare.

"What's the point of keeping it! This-this-this is only-"

"I also want to lick it and see what it tastes like!"

"Don't apply your experimental spirit here!"

Arthur threw the handkerchief back to his face, not knowing whether he should be angry or laugh. He pulled his pants on and buttoned his shirt up one by one, trying to return to his neat appearance in the beginning.

Alfred stared at the handkerchief in disappointment and looked at him again.

"Let-let's eat." Arthur looked away and stuttered, "Get your clothes straighten out too."

"Eh-" Alfred stood up somewhat unwillingly, "I like it better when we both look messy."

"... Go in the dining room already! You brat!"

* * *

**The Door into Summer**

Days were sweet and tasty like a sugar coated apple. Each time Arthur came over, he stayed up to a month at most. Because there was so little time, they grabbed a hold of every opportunity to be with each other. Alfred set himself an English time-in other words, as long as Arthur was here, he would stay at home, ride horses, go fishing, take a walk, kiss and do some erotic things with Arthur...

Arthur liked the way Alfred kissed his earlobe, even more so when he nibbled on it in his mouth as if he was speaking silent words of love. By doing that, Arthur could feel Alfred's breathing sounds ringing in his ears just by touching his earlobe when he left the America... Just thinking about it made him feel short of breath.

He didn't know he would actually be like a young fellow that had first taste love. The first thing he did every day when he opened his eyes was to think about what Alfred was doing right now. But Arthur understood that he shouldn't confuse his official duties with his private affairs. He tried to act not so different from his usual self, being careful so that it wouldn't be easy for the higher-ups to discover his relationship with Alfred. He wasn't an advocate for secrets; he just thought it would be strange for other people to know about his intimate relationship. All right, to be more specific, it made him feel embarrassed and he didn't know what to do.

More importantly, those annoying matters swarmed into his head the moment he returned to Europe. He was too busy with the war with France and could only rest late at night.

Sitting on the bed, he took out the necklace that was hanging before his chest. When he opened that fine little golden lid, he would look at his lovely big boy. He would often look at it until he fell asleep. The next day he would still be holding the necklace in his hands firmly when he woke up. He would sit on the bed and stare at Alfred's portrait for a while until it was time to get ready. Then he would kiss the necklace reluctantly and close the lid.

Even though he won the war afterwards, they were both battered and fell into financial deficits. Despite not feeling well, Arthur still insisted on going to America.

Letters alone could not convey his wholehearted longing. He split his heart in half; Alfred was on one end and his people were on the other end. When he rubbed the ring on his finger that symbolized power, he would occasionally think of Alfred's long fingers gently touching his. Whenever he was looking at Alfred's portrait, smoke and howls of war would sometimes cross his mind. Both sides were important to him. He loved himself just like he loved Alfred. Responsibilities and duties were on one end like some kind of seal rooted deeply in his mind. Spring-like gentle attachment was on the other end.

* * *

After the war with France was over, Arthur left for America immediately. The sky was a little cloudy by the time he got to their house. It looked like it was going to rain. Autumn was already here; the weather was gradually getting colder. Arthur was reading paperwork on a deck chair beside the living room fireplace. He laid on the side and freed only one hand to hold the paper. Fatigue from the long travel made his conscious gradually hazy. The familiar scent of water vapor was in the air. The paper on his hand soon fell to the ground and he was sound asleep.

Stepping on water puddles, Alfred came back to the house from the backyard. He and Andrew shook off the water on their bodies together. Andrew still had a ball in his mouth. Alfred extended his hand out for it to give the ball back.

"Hey. It'll break soon if you keep biting it." Alfred patted its head.

"Even though Arthur will be happy to make another one for you, but I don't want him to spend too much time on you."

Andrew growled quietly as if he understood Alfred's words and put down the ball unwillingly.

"But to compensate, I'll give you more bones and meat!" Alfred held the ball in his hand in satisfaction. Then they walked to the room upstairs.

The first thing he saw was Arthur's messy sandy hair exposed in the back of the chair and then the papers scattered on the floor. Alfred had Andrew laid on the side and picked the papers up from the ground in silence. He read it in curiosity and frowned unconsciously. But he still put away these papers away on the table by the side. He leaned over to kiss Arthur, who was covered with clothes and showed only a small part of his face.

Arthur felt someone tickling his neck lightly while being half awake. He opened his eyes with a smile. As he had expected, Alfred was sitting on the deck chair together with him and observing his sleeping face.

"Have you seen enough?" Arthur rested his head on his hands so his body was closer to Alfred's embrace.

Alfred kissed the tip of his nose mischievously, "No way."

Then Arthur extended his hand out, signaling him to move closer. Then he kissed on his lips.

"How about this?"

"Ah-" Alfred sighed in dissatisfaction, "That's cheating!"

"Oh." Arthur was still smiling, "You want to punish me now?"

"Hmph." Alfred pretended to be pondering. He took a good look at Arthur from the top to the bottom greedily. Because of the rest he just had, Arthur's face blushed in an intoxicating rosy color. The casual clothes he wore at home made him reveal a large area of his fair chest. Even though it was a pity that those two lovely fruits were still hidden by the clothes, but seeing his slender legs was enough.

While Alfred was still putting on an act and pretending to be thinking, Arthur already bent his legs against Alfred's hips and rubbed it restlessly. Alfred lost his rationality immediately. He flipped, straddled on Arthur, and saw Arthur smiling at him mischievously.

"Andrew!" Alfred yelled through gritted teeth.

"Go outside for a bit. Be a good boy, I'll give you double the bones at dinner!"

Arthur added, "We have some things to do... Go find the ball I made for you and play with it?"

Andrew stood up and let out a bark as if it was protesting, but his two owners had no time to pay attention to it.

In fact, they weren't really concerned with whether Andrew went out or not now.

* * *

Sure enough, it began raining at night. Small raindrops fell on the roof, leaving transparent water marks on the window. Yellow light was flashing dimly inside. There was no need to speak out, the voices of skin whispered to each other. The sight was a soaring bird that moved up and down, wishing there was never an end. Each breath exhaled was a cloud or flower, scattered in the swaying light.

A cool rainfall was outside the window. It was also drizzling here too. As sweet as the rain, moans drifted across everything to the outside of the world. It was a Neverland here; everyone that stayed in it could only give up their thoughts and everything they persisted... It seemed the rain would never stop. And no one wanted it to stop.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 6-3**

Arthur crossed his bare legs and sat beside the fireplace, only wrapping his body in bed sheet. Alfred was like that too. The lingering pleasure still remained all over his body. He thought maybe just a small spark could make him reach orgasm again. Alfred was lying with his face up on the other chair. Their feet were placed on the small stool in front of the fireplace, rubbing their toes with each other in flirtation.

They were already hungry after making love. Arthur had finally dragged Alfred off the bed and rang the bell for the maid to deliver their food before the door. They could now fill their stomachs. Of course, Alfred didn't forget about the promise with Andrew. He gave it a big thick bone with meat.

Lying comfortably on the chairs, they chatted aimlessly and talked about whatever they thought of. From what happened on the other end of the ocean to the American continent, they didn't spare any detail. Arthur looked at the big boy who had his cheeks tinted red by the fire with a smile. He couldn't help but sigh.

"This is nice."

"Hmm?" Alfred looked him puzzledly.

"Us sitting here, talking, eating..."

"You forgot we also made love."

Alfred laughed. It looked nicer than any flower in the summer.

"Oh, yes." Arthur didn't argue back, "That's very important indeed."

"Am I getting better?" Alfred felt a little embarrassed, but he wanted to hide his awkward state by asking a question immediately. Arthur thought for a bit.

"I like... the way you lick my earlobe."

"I know."

"And those small foreplays, um, before you push in..." Arthur's cheeks became flushed and his voice trailed off. Alfred, on the other hand, protested in dissatisfaction, "It should feel pretty nice after I push in, right? I tried really hard to push in and out for a long time!"

"You-you git! Time isn't the most important thing here! Skills are more important! And...uh..."

"And what?"

"Well... you know."

"I know?"

"Yes. You 'should definitely' know."

"How am I suppose to know if you don't tell me?"

Arthur bit his lips. He thought why despite being well-known as the terrifying England, he always made a fool out of himself before this bloody brat. Alfred used his toes to grip his mischievously, then rubbed them lightly as if he was encouraging him to say the sentence he wanted to hear. Arthur blinked and felt his breathing becoming somewhat disordered. As a matter of fact, that sentence was only some combination of words. There was no need for him to be so cautious, nervous or... stingy. Wouldn't it be nice to just let Alfred hear what he wanted to hear?

"I love you, Arthur." But Alfred spoke up before Arthur could reply, "Even though I don't know why you're always so... nervous, but there's nothing to be afraid of at all, isn't there?"

"I don't know... I'm not afraid of anything in particular..."

"Never mind. It's okay." Alfred tried not to show his disappointment. He moved his body up in Arthur's direction and gave him an understanding kiss.

"We're together."

Arthur staggered at this, then he soon felt his heart warmed up.

"Yes. Forever."

* * *

Because of the washing from yesterday's rain, the scenery on the horizon brightened up. Everything looked so vibrant - the sky looked its bluest and those leaves shined with emerald-like light. Arthur squinted his eyes and looked in the direction of Alfred, who was playing with Andrew in the distance. He was sitting under the shade of a tree in the backyard and reading the documents he didn't finish reading yesterday.

After skimming through a few more pages, Arthur felt extremely annoyed. Every article of these acts made it hard for him to bring the subject up, but he still had to finish reading these messages then let Alfred know. He coughed, feeling pain in his chest. The wounds caused by the war had healed quickly, but the deeper injury would take a longer time to recover. Arthur took another glance at those two that were having all the fun.

He wasn't the decision makers of these acts but the executor. He could participate in the discussion, yet he couldn't change the decision. Arthur lowered his head and pondered, feeling something was subtle in between... A head of government exists for the country and the country exists for the people. They're interlinked closely with each other, but they're all "him". Arthur wasn't certain which side made him faintly feel something was off. It was like becoming aware that something was wrong with your body, yet you feel there shouldn't be any problem.

That's weird, he thought. Why would he think of such things? He read these acts with doubt and reluctance. Did these feelings belong to him? Or... were they someone else's?

In fact, every article written in this document were all very reasonable, but he just... didn't want to see Alfred making any unhappy face because of these articles. If Alfred was sad, it would make him feel upset too. Similarly, if Alfred was happy, it would make him feel happy too. There was a thread pulling the two of them together at this very moment. It made them so close with each other; every move could be conveyed to one another. But this thread was short, thin and stretched tight. It would break if pulled accidently.

Arthur wanted to hold on to the thread. But he wasn't sure if he should.

If he held out his hand and followed the thread, where would he go? What would be at the end of the thread? If it broke halfway, where would they fall?

Andrew ran under the tree shade first and circled around Arthur. He paused and put down his paper, holding out his hand to scratch its neck. Then Alfred came back too. He looked young and energetic in a simple white shirt and black pants. He gave Arthur a kiss first when he returned, then he stroked Andrew's fur. This had became their unspoken agreement already. Even if it was only a brief separation, they would give each other a kiss when they meet again.

"You're reading those again..."

Alfred let out a breath and sat beside him. Arthur poured a cup of tea and handed it to him. Alfred took a sip and said, "Lately, I think coffee tastes pretty good too."

"I still think tea is better." Arthur answered, not taking it seriously.

"Oh. Coffee and tea, tea and coffee..." Alfred's head turned a bit.

"How about putting them together?"

"Is that even drinkable?" Arthur frowned and shot him a glance. Alfred grinned.

"I think, hmm, we taste pretty good together! You drank a lot last night too, didn't you?"

Arthur's cheeks became red in an instance. He gave Alfred a ferocious stare, "How many times do I have to tell you not to come inside!"

"But I'll clean it up for you... And I drank all your tea obediently."

"... That's enough. I don't want to talk about this in broad daylight..."

"Hmm? You're the one that responded first."

Alfred picked up a biscuit and bit on it. Arthur pursed his lips and stared at him for a long time with a flushed face.

"It's your fault for coming up with such an odd idea!"

"Ha ha ha." Alfred ignored Arthur on purpose. With his foot, he gently rubbed Andrew who was lying on the floor, "Don't you think Arthur is very erotic too? He's always thinking of doing this and doing that. Being a hero and meeting his demands are exhausting..."

Andrew let out a bark in cooperation. Alfred became more proud, "As expected from my good buddy! I'll give you some meat in the evening!"

Arthur really thought his head was going to explode from anger (or embarrassment?). He felt that he should refute loudly or scold at this person and the dog to rebuild his dignity, but he discovered in frustration that what Alfred said was... actually... not completely a lie... He was the one that took the initiative last night too. God!

While Arthur was still thinking in despair, Alfred had already finished the biscuit and wiped his hands. Then he took the document Arthur had been reading for a long time smoothly. Alfred's expression was relaxed and happy at first, but his frown gradually became deeper as his blue eyes skimmed through more texts. A while later, he finally put down the document.

"This is what's going to be issued this time?"

"Uh... yes."

Arthur nodded and then coughed.

"You haven't recovered from your cold yet." Alfred said in concern, "... It looks pretty serious."

"No, it's not a big deal." Arthur replied, "It's always like this after a war."

"... Why do we get hurt every time they fight?"

"They?"

"Uh, I mean..." Alfred didn't know what he was talking about either. He looked around nervously, "They... are them."

"I don't know what you're talking about. We're the total body of the people, the land and the government. Of course our body will reflect our losses after a war."

"Oh." Alfred responded quietly. It took a while before he spoke up again, "I don't like those decrees."

Arthur sighed, "I know you won't like it." He poured a cup of tea for himself too. "But such things must be implemented whether you like it or not."

"Why?"

"Because that's an order."

"Even though we both don't like it?"

"You should know." Arthur took a look at Andrew, who had fallen asleep already, "I'm England. This is my duty."

"And I'm America, the colony of England." Alfred said, "You're different from me."

"Yes. Different." Arthur gently touched the arm that Alfred placed on the table with his finger tips, "But our destiny is the same. Did you forget? We talked about it last night."

"Together." Alfred held Arthur's hand in melancholy, "But I just want to be with you."

"Something always has to be paid in order to gain more things." Arthur said in reassurance, "It has always been like this since the past."

Alfred didn't say anything again. He held on to Arthur's hand tightly and then let go.

He stood up with a smile still on his face, "Do you want to ride horses together in the afternoon?"

"It's my pleasure."

Arthur smiled at him too and put away the document.

* * *

There were only two days left before Arthur return to England. Alfred put away the growing feeling of loneliness and placed the apple pie that had just came out of the oven on the table. He wanted to take it to the living room and share it with Arthur, so he chose a knife, intending to divide it into portions first for eating convenience. But he accidently got his left thumb cut when he picked the knife up. Blood immediately seep out of the skin. Fortunately, it wasn't a serious injury. He was just cut by the knife and got only a small wound. Alfred didn't really mind. He was still focusing on cutting the pie. Then he put the knife away and carried the tray upstairs personally.

Walking up the stairs, he would find Arthur inside the innermost room around the corner. They had been very happy since this week. Everything except those detestable acts was pleasant. He knocked on the door and Arthur opened it for him.

Another kiss again. He really loved the feeling of being able to see Arthur whenever he opened the door. He really hoped some invention could make his fantasy come true some day. As he put down the tray, Arthur sharply discovered the wound on his finger and held his hand up.

"How careless of you." He scolded, but his tone was full of heartache.

"This kind of small wound will heal soon anyways."

Arthur kissed his wound, "I casted a spell on it for you."

"Magic? You still believe in that stuff?" Alfred said helplessly, "Are those imaginary creatures of yours still around you?"

"They're not imaginary! They really exist!" Arthur put down his hand and returned to his seat unhappily. Alfred pulled him over and pinched his face, "Whether they exist or not, it's fine as long as they don't disturb us."

Arthur grabbed his hand and gave it another kiss.

"They'll really exist as long as you believe." Arthur blinked. His emerald eyes were sparkling, "But you have to believe first."

"So your imaginary friends can only exist because of your belief? That's to say, they don't exist in the first place."

"No, that's different. They do exist. But as long as people don't believe in them, they'll die slowly and finally disappear."

"How delicate." Alfred shrugged, not really taking Arthur's nonsense to heart. He had listened to this countless of times since he was little, so he was already used to Arthur's ridiculous argument about fairies and unicorns.

Arthur nodded, "They're delicate creatures, all right." He picked up a slice of apple pie.

"So don't just not believe in them as you please."

"Oh." Alfred tilted his head and shook it, "I still think it's weird. This is like hypnotizing. First you have to tell yourself to believe they exist, then they'll exist!"

"Aren't many things like that? There's nothing weird about it. Just like religion."

Arthur continued to talk as a matter of course, "First you have to accept the Bible was not written by some lunatics. Then you believe in it, therefore God is in your heart."

"God is not the same as fairies." Alfred objected, "I believe God exist in the beginning. Otherwise, how did we appear?"

"Fairies and magic exist in the beginning too. It's just that no one wrote a good book for them, so they were regarded as heresy. Ah-it's a good thing that period had already passed." Arthur finished the pie on his hand and took another slice.

"But the way God selects sinners is unconditional. His selection is not based on people's ethical merit, nor is it because He foresaw the faith of the people that would take place."

"Ah... I forgot you're an advocate of Calvinism." Arthur laughed, "If you live a little longer, I think you'll probably experience the way those religions always change their rhetoric."

Alfred took a big bite and chewed on the apple pie. Still not convinced, he let out a soft snort, "Of course things are this way. Arthur, you had better give up on your imaginary friends soon!"

* * *

These insignificant little debates and days of leisure passed by quickly.

On the day Arthur returned to England, they were hiding in a secret place in the dock and kissing. The cold raindrops that fell from the sky landed on their bodies. Their clothes were gradually getting wetter. They were still immersed in the kiss until the bell rang, urging the last passenger to board.

With his blond hair wet, Arthur's forest-like eyes were deep. He quickly kissed Alfred's finger tips, taking a few more seconds to kiss that injured thumb.

"May everything be well with you."

"May everything be well with you."

They pressed their foreheads against each other, cherishing their final loving time together before departing.

* * *

Note: The truth to what happened to Alfred is going to be revealed next chapter...  
But before that, I would like to hear people's theory on what happened~ Would anyone like to share?  
Their conversation was fun to translate. Oh Arthur, you and your imaginary friends XD


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 6-4**

_You brought me summer, but left in the autumn._

_I dreamed a dream, but it became hell in the end.

* * *

_

When the news of the Boston incident reached here, Alfred felt pain in his heart. He bent down and kneeled on the ground in agony. He had intended to throw the ball in his hand for Andrew to play with. It dropped with a "thud" from his hand and rolled to the corner of a wall.

Andrew ran after the ball, but returned to Alfred with the ball in its mouth soon. It was wagging its tail continuously. Andrew rubbed against Alfred's face for a while, letting out a few barks again until its owner's face was no longer pale and was gradually returning to normal.

Alfred was aware of his recent poor health. The acts Arthur brought had caused this. He hated, or rather, detested those acts. But when he thought of Arthur who had been coughing during his last visit, he felt he was unable to say anything. Of course his friends didn't think this way. Alfred could always feel their strong anger and intentional or unintentional incitation each time they talked.

What do you think, Alfred? Don't you think this is very unfair, Alfred? Don't you think we should have some strong expressions toward England, Alfred? Alfred...

Enough. Of course he knew it was unfair. It could even be regarded as harsh exploitation. He also hated England's actions very much, but he couldn't treat Arthur with the same feeling. It was weird. He didn't know when he gradually started seeing England and Arthur as two separate beings. He thought they were two different beings and couldn't be confused with one another.

But that wasn't the case in reality. England is Arthur, and Arthur is England. Perhaps it was because he was so in love with Arthur, so he deceived his own eyes, wanting to find an excuse for Arthur. But that wasn't the truth after all.

Whenever he felt such pain, he would always think about whether Arthur could feel the pain too.

Does Arthur know he was in such pain he almost couldn't breathe?

But in comparison, when Arthur was coughing violently because of the aftereffect left by the war, could he feel it too?

Could he go to the other end of the ocean and be by his side?

Why do people always have to hurt each other and make them suffer?

Why do people have to start disputes over resources, rights, races and all that?

Why can't God treat all things fairly?

Why must there be competitions just for wanting to live?

He had countless questions. Perhaps it was because he was still too young, so he was too greedy to find the answers. And these questions would always float in his mind, making him anxious all day.

But he would never think of such things before. He was like a clock which had been set perfectly, moving according to the pace of time and advancing or retreating along with his people. But something made him different now. He held on to a thread and followed it. His dreams began to have different colors; he could always find Arthur among those blank faces. Then the light brightened and the view became lively. Those happy and sweet voices came in too, mixed with a few barks. It was Andrew jumping by their side in excitement.

Alfred panted, holding his hand out to reassure Andrew.

"I'm okay, buddy..."

* * *

**The Door into Summer**

It was always windy whenever it was about to rain heavily. Alfred was staring at his thumb. That wound wasn't bleeding anymore, but the gap had yet to close up. When he was thinking about taking a needle and poking it to see what was going on, someone came to visit him. Several of his friends who knew his identity came in angrily to speak with him. To be honest, Alfred was a little tired of dealing with them.

"Look at these outrageous demands!"

George let out a shout first. He spread a leaflet on the table and read out the articles one by one. Alfred put a hand behind the back of the chair and tickled Andrew so it would walk in circles. He also distracted himself by studying how long this heavy rain would last. When he counted to two hundred and five seconds, George found out he wasn't paying attention.

"... Al? Alfred!"

"Oh, I'm here." He raised his hand and waved.

George pointed furiously at Alfred and questioned, "Don't you feel anything toward these outrageous actions?"

"Uh." Alfred scratched the back of his head, "I do think they're bad, but it's no use being furious about it."

"If everyone unite together and fight, then our anger won't be of no use!" George said passionately, "We shall resist them from taking away the freedom we originally had and become independent from them!"

"... Independence?" Alfred was in a daze, "Did you say independence?"

"Of course!"

Some of the people present there also showed surprises on their face like Alfred, and some showed expressions of admiration and support. George went on, "It's about time. Since they repeatedly ignored our protests, then we must stand up for ourselves!"

Alfred was silent for a while.

"It's not so simple to become independent." He said with an unprecedented serious face, "First everyone must be prepared to sacrifice their lives, then hold guns to engage in battles with people. Maybe that person is our relative from several generations ago. Are you serious about wanting to do it?"

"Perhaps now is not the time yet. It's no wonder you would have such concerns." George gave Alfred one meaningful look, "But I believe everyone here is not afraid to die! If we have your support too, then there shouldn't be any problem!"

Then the noisy sounds of discussion became louder. The reception room became lively for the moment. Alfred lowered his eyes. Andrew was lying beside his feet obediently. Alfred paid no heed to the noises around him. He closed his eyes and felt Arthur was kissing him from his forehead to his lips. But that feeling of happiness soon disappeared, he then discovered it was only a breeze with water vapor. He was so tired. How he wanted to take a long rest.

"... So what do you think?"

The question was thrown back at him. Alfred opened his eyes and looked at everyone who was full of expectation of him. He cleared his throat, knowing what he was about to say would be very unwelcoming for sure.

"Please give me more time to consider this." Alfred said in a low voice, "There is too much at stake after all."

"... All right." As the leader, George wasn't satisfied with the answer, but he still accepted Alfred's reason with reluctance, "I hope you can make up your mind as soon as possible."

The rain hadn't stopped yet. His friends left Alfred's house one by one, holding umbrellas in their hands. Alfred saw them off at the door, but George had no intention to leave yet. He stared at Alfred's eyes solemnly, not even blinking his eyes.

"When that person comes over - you know who I'm referring to - does he always live at your place?"

"Hmm?" Alfred looked at him in surprise, "Is that a problem?"

"No. I'm just curious as to why he always comes here even through there is a British official residence."

"Because the view is better here." Alfred replied with a smile, "And the food is better too."

"Even though my guess may offend you, but seeing as we're friends, I can't help but worry - You're too intimate with him."

"What are you implying?"

"You look like you're in love."

Alfred raised an eyebrow, "What if I say your guess is not wrong?"

"Alfred!" George shouted sternly in surprise, "Don't tell me you have a sodomy relationship with him?"

"Shut up." Alfred stared at him angrily when he heard the term that slandered his relationship with Arthur, "You don't have the right to say that!"

"Of course I do!" George went from being surprised to being furious, "Do you do oral sex for him? Or do you let him put that dirty thing in your anus? My god!"

"If you dare say one more word that slanders Arthur, then don't blame me for not having any consideration about our friendship!"

"Alfred! Do you know who you are? Do you really understand who that dirty and vile person is?"

George's whole body trembled; he couldn't tell if it was from anger or shock. Alfred picked up an umbrella and threw it hard at George. He shouted, "I'm me! Arthur's Arthur! End of story!"

"Now leave this place before I throw you out, otherwise I can't guarantee you won't have a broken leg or more!"

George stood in the pouring rain and looked at the angry person in front of him with astonishment. He couldn't believe his eyes. It was like Alfred had became a stranger, and was no longer a friend he had entrusted things with. After a while, George turned and left. He wasn't holding an umbrella and he looked somewhat lost.

Alfred watched him from the behind and covered his face helplessly. There was no way he wouldn't be angry at the people who insulted Arthur, but he never wanted to treat his friend like this. He felt he was ridiculously wrong in every aspect, but he couldn't turn back.

* * *

After that, George never came to see him anymore.

Alfred wrote to Arthur often, hoping he would display his influence in the parliament and reduce the oppression of the colony. Arthur's reply always said he would try, although he couldn't guarantee anything because he wasn't the decision maker but only the executor. It would be a lie if he said he wasn't disappointed with this answer. Sometimes he would be furious at Arthur for not being any help at all. He began losing his temper easily; he would become irritated over small things. He felt like he was a beast that was confined in a cage of frustration and anger. There was no exit and he couldn't go anywhere.

As if it could sense its owner's change, Andrew had been resting quietly beside Alfred's feet recently. Sometimes it would occasionally play by biting on the small toy Arthur made for it. Perhaps it was wishing its other owner could return soon too. The big boy that was currently writing a letter had already crumpled more than twenty pages of drafts up. These draft papers would always fall on its head.

Alfred still followed the change of situation closely. The First Continental Congress was held in Philadelphia. The people there adopted a declaration and created the Continental Association. Alfred went there because he was invited. He also saw a lot of his old acquaintances, including George. He tried to wave in greeting to him, but George turned around and passed by him indifferently. He used to be really good friends with George. That was why it made him so upset that things became like this.

He didn't go for a drink with everyone after the meeting. He stayed in the hotel room and took out his pocket watch. Opening the lid, there was a portrait of Arthur inside. Watching his smile made Alfred feel a little better.

After some time, Alfred regained his attention when there was a string of knock on the door. He opened the door and found George standing in front of him.

"... It's been a long time."

"Yes."

Alfred let George in the room uneasily. George seemed to feel a little awkward too.

"First of all, I have to apologize... about your Mr. Kirkland." George spoke up with difficulty.

"We shouldn't ruin our friendship over something like this."

Alfred nodded, "I shouldn't have lost my temper so thoughtlessly last time."

"Then I'll put this directly: Since you came here and took part in this meeting, it should mean you have made up your mind already, yes?" George asked, going straight to the point immediately.

Alfred shook his head and replied, "In fact, I'm still thinking it over."

"... Alfred, don't you think you're getting the order reversed?"

"What?"

George spoke earnestly, "The most important things to you are 'us' and 'yourself', isn't it?"

"... Yes. That's true."

"I don't want to doubt the extent of loyalty in the love between you and Mr. Kirkland, but I hope you can keep some questionable points in mind."

George analyzed slowly, "First, why would he let you and us suffer if he loves you?"

"Secondly, why did he never think about having you accompanying him to England for a period of time if he loves you?"

"Lastly, this is also my biggest doubt; if he loves you and you love him, do you really think there's a future for the both of you? He can always betray you and torture you like this, but you'll be powerless to fight back at all."

"... Arthur didn't betray me." Alfred said with his hands in a fist, "He'll try his best to help us think of something."

"No, you're blinded by love. No one will help us. We have to find a way for ourselves."

Alfred lowered his head in silence. George let out a sigh.

"Let's put it this way. Admit it. He doesn't love you. It's impossible for England to love his colony. Plundering resources was his intention from the start. There's nothing else."

"And you should be on our side."

After a while, Alfred looked up. He looked lost.

"George, have you ever had a promise with someone?"

"Of course I have."

"Then would you try your best to keep the promise?"

"That's for certain. If it doesn't go against my moral conscience."

"Would you still insist on keeping the promise if he betrayed you?"

"... If," George paused, "I would still keep it if that promise is very important. But since I had already been betrayed, then whether I would keep it or not depends on the situation."

"I have a promise with someone, George. But I don't even have the right to 'choose whether to keep it or not'."

Alfred said quietly, "Because I'm who I am, so I don't have the right to choose?"

"You'll be very miserable if you must think like that."

"It's about the same now." Alfred suddenly found himself funny, "I seek for freedom, but I'm the least free out of all the people."

"..."

George glanced at his thumb.

"The wound hasn't healed yet?"

"It probably never will." Alfred said quietly, "Give me that gun."

"What?"

"You're prepared already, aren't you?" Alfred looked at him, "What all of you are about to do is imperative."

George took out an exquisite pistol he had prepared under his gaze.

"I wish this won't have to be used at all." He said heavily, "But if you're still 'you', there shouldn't be any problem," George aimed the gun at his own temple in an act, "Even if you use this gun and pull the trigger. Because you're an existence that surpasses lives or anything else."

"So now the problem is - can you prove you're still you?"

"If - of course I hope this is only an assumption - if you're no longer 'yourself', you can still maintain your dignity with this gun."

* * *

For some things, you can never hope "if only it didn't happen." It was something that could not be controlled at all. A healthy person may have a sudden death; a person with disability may suddenly recover. We'll say it may be retribution or a punishment for the former with some pity at most. The latter we may say it's a miracle or a blessing and try to find traces of miracle on him. These two are essentially the same if you think about it. It all happened so suddenly and the person in concern cannot choose. The future is a variable of uncertainty. The good fortune and misfortune of everything are only comparative.

Even if you were happy in the beginning, it doesn't mean that happiness will last until the end. But if you were rejected in the beginning, it doesn't mean things will become worse later.

After pushing countless doors open, I met you here. But when I want to push another door open, it was locked. I saw a thread on the side. I thought it might be possible to go on, so I held on to the thread despite not knowing what would be at the end of the road.

But now I know.

I need to entrust someone to take care of my good buddy Andrew. It can't be there when the gunshot takes place. I need to prepare an apple pie and finish them, so I won't be hungry when I set off. I have to wear the pocket watch, so he'll always be with me wherever "I" may go.

If I abandoned my people because of him, I'll be guilty of crime; but if I betrayed him because of my people, I'll be beyond redemption.

I'm not free anywhere.

And God, I want to curse you. I curse you for creating me, letting me know what love is, yet took away my freedom of choice relentlessly.

* * *

_I choose you, Arthur._

_Don't cry. You look so ridiculous._

* * *

Note: Phew, finally done with this chapter.  
Ah... the fall semester starts today, I'm not looking forward to it.  
I have many things I want to say about this chapter, but couldn't think of anything to put down in the end.  
Hmm... I wonder if people expected this to happen?  
Anyways, next chapter will be the last. I hope I won't take a long time to translate it now that school's starting.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 7**

_"Oh, then did ye LOVE the world-Ye eternal ones, ye love it eternally and for all time: and also unto woe do ye say: Hence! Go! But come back! FOR JOYS ALL WANT-ETERNITY!" - Friedrich Nietzsche

* * *

_

**The Door into Summer**

Riding on the road from late at night to early morning, the cold wind flew in constantly and kept Alfred from being drowsy. The sun had already stuck its head out on the other end of the horizon. The light-purple morning fog would soon be dyed to the color of orange, bright orange and gold... He belonged in this world of vast lands and endless horizon.

The radio would become static occasionally. Alfred only knew he had to go somewhere far away, but he didn't know when or where he should stop.

Arthur said he would come find him.

What Arthur said had calmed his frantic mood. He watched the calm, grand sunrise outside. The warm sunlight fell on him, but the sun's golden sphere itself was too dazzling to look at directly. He could calm down slowly and organize his thoughts, at least before the CIA finds him.

Okay.

First, his superhuman strength had disappeared.

Secondly, Arthur's attitude was unusually inconsistent.

Thirdly, the conversation with the civil officer caused him to become vaguely aware of his own change.

Yes, he began thinking about things he shouldn't and couldn't have thought of. For instance, he started questioning the purpose and the meaning of his existence, and about all the restrictions that constrained him.

Normally, he wouldn't be thinking about things like this. But it was weird how he felt like he had woken up from a very long dream one day, opened his eyes to observe this world for the first time, and discovered his own change. It wasn't the same realization that he was different from a normal human being when he was just born, but it was more like... he thought his former self was like a doll without self-consciousness. He would naturally move toward the direction his people wanted him to go; but now he began to want to resist those voices and make his own decision.

Why would this happen? Since when had he become like this?

Maybe it was the moment he became attracted to Arthur in the First World War, or maybe it was when he saw Arthur's figure in the party that caused him to fall into this vortex. Or perhaps it was because he was disappointed by the various calculating aspects of his "people" in those endless meetings.

Why is it so difficult to want to do the right thing?

Is it because he shouldn't have fallen in love with Arthur?

Why? Why?

What will happen to him now that he had been awakened? Will he disappear? Or is it possible to return to the puppet state he was in before?

His intuition told him Arthur must be hiding something in that inconsistent attitude of his. Arthur definitely knows something. He had drawn a line to prevent them from getting closer with each other. Arthur reassured him that he should pay more attention to his own national affairs, then pushed him away mercilessly before finally giving up his persistence and asking him to wait for him.

But he didn't think Arthur could really find him. Those words were also merely more of a comforting nature than actual feasibility. Perhaps Arthur didn't love him as much as Alfred did. Arthur had never asked him how he was, nor did the Briton have any signs of abnormality. Alfred thought it was like he was doing a one-man show, where he was both the director and the actor. Maybe Arthur was laughing at him for actually going down the path of variation and putting so much of his foolish affection into it.

But he was still reluctant to call it a betrayal. He didn't want to admit he was really as miserable as that.

The sun had completely risen at this point. Alfred intended to take a break, so he drove the car to the gas station and bought some things for the journey. Walking into a small convenient store, he grabbed some random snacks and paid at the counter. He bought a cup of instant coffee and drank it beside the store counter while standing. There were a few copies of the morning paper on the counter. He flipped through it and lost interest after a few glances. Then he stared at his cell phone, looking at the time of the last call.

"Freeze."

"... So you actually found me first, George."

"... You're under arrest, Mr. Jones."

Alfred raised both of his hands before his chest and turned around calmly. His civil officer was holding a pistol with 5.7 cm caliber in his hands and aiming it between his eyebrows. George kept a close watch on Alfred's movement with a solemn expression.

"I had advised you not to leave without permission."

"Did you think I would comply?"

"I should have known you wouldn't."

"Yup." Alfred smiled faintly, "I didn't know you're capable of using a gun. Are you going to execute me right here?"

"No, I will bring you back to face the trial. Also, I used to be a cop."

"Oh. A cop. Oh. A trial." Alfred repeated.

Watching Alfred's reaction, George couldn't guess what he was thinking at this moment. As Alfred's civil officer, he knew about Alfred's little habits. Those habits seemed familiar, just like how he would have the similar move as Alfred if their positions were reversed one day. He wasn't surprised he could find Alfred first. What surprised him was that Alfred had stopped the car and not run without turning back when there was still gas in the car.

"Are you waiting for someone?"

"He won't be coming." Alfred shook his head.

George snorted lightly, "But you still stopped the car."

"Maybe I'm waiting for you to bring me back to the trial."

"... Why did you still do it despite knowing the outcome would be like this?"

"I don't know." Alfred muttered, "I want to ask myself why I had been awakened too."

"Awakened?"

"Didn't you notice? As a matter of fact, the me right now is not so different from you." Alfred said, "I think you know what I mean by that."

"Losing your strength and forgetting your responsibilities, you... you are being charged with treason." George said heavily.

"So it's been decided already." Alfred blinked, "What a wonderful accusation!"

Contrary to Alfred's magnanimous tone that sounded close to despair, George had a mixed expression.

"... Come back, Mr. Jones. I know you have always dedicated yourself to the country, so there must be a way..."

"Let me ask you, how will you tell a person that had been awakened - the original world is better, so return and go on being controlled now!"

"... I think you also understand that not everything can go according to our wishes. The reality is always like that..."

"Screw accepting reality and living in restrictions! Only those who had lost hope will give in! And I'll never surrender! Never stop struggling!" Alfred shouted, "This is what I'll do, no matter how long it takes! I'll try no matter how many times I failed!"

George couldn't come up with any reply. He stared at the furious Alfred for a long time and slowly lowered the arm that was holding the gun.

The civil officer didn't know how to describe his feelings right now; the Alfred before him was no longer the superior he knew but another existence that he couldn't name. He was neither his country nor a heinous criminal. Alfred was only pursuing his own freedom, so why must he face him with a gun?

Yes, he carried their expectations and responsibilities, but it wasn't like he accepted them out of his free will. He only complied in ignorance before this, but now he had been awakened and discovered he couldn't escape the obligations imposed on him by this world.

Alfred watched as George put the gun down, then the civil officer took out a cell phone from the pocket of his jacket and handed it to him.

"Use this cell phone to contact Mr. Arthur. He's already here."

The civil officer said haggardly before handing the gun he had been carrying to Alfred, "He'll be coming."

Alfred accepted these two things in astonishment. George wanted him to hand his black cell phone over.

"This phone had already been tracked. In fact, they would be here in a few minutes. You better leave now."

"You... but why?"

"I am glad to have been your subordinate." George said slowly, "I think you're just you... you have the right to choose the ending you want."

* * *

Being on the road again, Alfred was holding tightly on to the cell phone George gave to him in his hand. Arthur's cell phone number was in it. He didn't have the time to ponder about why George knew how to contact Arthur. In his noisy mind, the message that "Arthur would really come find him" was all over the place. It was like riding on a roller coaster - he had just fell from a high altitude to the bottom, and rose to a high altitude again because of joy. Now what? How happy or sad could he be next?

He still hesitated for a few seconds before pressing down on the call button. He didn't wait for too long. Arthur picked it up after the phone rang for a few times on the other end.

"Arthur."

"Al."

"Where are you?"

"In a bar that's twenty kilometres away from that gas station. Remember to look to the left. Don't go to the one on the opposite side."

"Oh, yes. The British are always on the left side."

"And you Americans never understood the real meaning in the words of others."

"I don't need to understand, do I? I mean, I'll never know what the hell is going on if you don't tell me."

"... I'll tell you whatever it is you want to know."

"Don't drink. I don't want to see you strip in the store."

"If you can bear through this, I can strip only for you. Wanker."

Alfred grinned. He never knew Arthur was capable of saying things like this.

"So no more hiding this time? No lies?"

"No. Nothing."

Arthur paused a while before speaking up again, "... You have always been my only one."

Alfred could bet Arthur's face must be burning after saying that last sentence. For Arthur to profess his love clearly was almost next to impossible. Normally, hoping Arthur to say some sweet words would be like asking him to take his life. Although Alfred had doubts at the Briton's sudden change, but he thought there was nothing wrong with how things turned out. He was happy because this made the fact that Arthur loves him clear.

He arrived at the place Arthur designated soon. Arthur wasn't sitting in the bar but standing on the roadside. Because of that, Alfred was able to se the figure in a khaki trench coat from afar.

The American braked and stopped the car. Arthur got into the back seat immediately in a swift manner. It seemed he didn't bring anything except himself.

"Phew. So, are we eloping now?"

Alfred glanced at Arthur from the rear mirror.

"This is not romantic at all." Arthur said bluntly, "I would prefer drinking a cup of tea in the newly decorated house of yours now."

"Oh. Did George tell you?"

"Yes."

Arthur watched as the scenery from the outside flew by, "He's really worried about you."

"When did the two of you start contacting each other?"

"Since he was appointed." Arthur answered straightforwardly, "In fact, I have the phone numbers of every civil officer you had since we became lovers."

"I didn't think you would be so worried about me cheating on you! You sure do love me!"

"Git! That's because a certain person always love to do things on the spur of the moment, then destroy himself!"

"You're worried about me as well?" Alfred said gently.

"How can I not?" Arthur covered his own face, "You never knew..."

"Then tell me, what are you worrying about?"

For a short while, no sound was coming from the backseat. Alfred turned his head back worriedly and saw Arthur spacing out on the seat. Then he blinked his emerald eyes hard, as if to blink the tears he had shed dry.

"Didn't you promise to tell me everything?"

"... We were lovers in the past."

Alfred raised an eyebrow, "Really? I don't recall any of that at all."

"Yes, of course you won't... Because you had already sent Andrew away by the time I got there."

"Andrew?"

"We had a shepherd dog as a pet together. It was named Andrew."

Arthur's voice was hoarse as if he was telling an old story. The two of them were the main characters of the story, but one of them had no memory of it.

"I recall that part... It was before I became independent from you, wasn't it? You came and asked me where the shepherd dog went."

"Then you said you don't know. You never had one."

"Ah. You had an odd expression after that. Hey, it really made me laugh seeing the way you frowned."

"Perhaps you thought it was funny, but I knew everything wouldn't be the same anymore since that moment."

"What wouldn't be the same?"

"No more... no more kisses, no more apple pies, no more roses..."

Arthur said painfully. Every sentence was stuck in his throat. He had to try his hardest to squeeze those words out from the depth of his buried memories.

"I didn't know... who you were. I didn't know the you... that stood in front of me that time."

"I don't what you're talking about."

Arthur took a deep breath. Alfred turned and drove on another highway.

"Perhaps back then, things were like what's happening now. I just didn't discover it in time. But perhaps-perhaps it was because our positions were too different back then, so he disappeared and I didn't..."

"Wait, Arthur. What are you talking about?"

"I thought maybe you had lost your memory, but you remember most of things that happened, just not all those little details... The traces that proved we were in love seemed to have completely disappeared on you."

"Then shortly after that, you aimed a gun at me and told me you want independence."

The two of them became silent for a while. Alfred spoke up again, "I thought you didn't mind me becoming independent anymore."

"I don't." Arthur felt their car ran over a pebble and bounced a little, "Even though I was furious back then. Especially when the battle of Yorktown took place."

"You looked so righteous, but I could only recall his promise. Together. Even though he said we'll be together, then why..."

"Who on earth is he?"

"I don't know." Arthur said quietly, "He's Alfred F. Jones. You are too."

"... You mean there are two of me? And the other me were lovers with you in the past?"

"I can't think of a better explanation than that." Arthur lowered his eyes, putting his palms together and placing them on his lips. He had a painful expression.

"I found Andrew afterwards. I didn't give up because I wanted to find out what was going on. Fortunately, he didn't entrust Andrew to someone too far away."

"It came over in excitement upon seeing me. Then while you weren't home, I took the opportunity and brought it home-the home that used to be ours. It refused to be near your room. It barked loudly, as if it had seen a stranger or a thief."

"So I was sure... that he was really gone. Only you, who we were unfamiliar with, were left."

Alfred listened in silence.

"So I had a theory about why things turned out the way it did. It took me a long time to figure out. He couldn't have betrayed me. Then he must have committed suicide or disappeared naturally. The reason he disappeared was probably because of the situation back then. You know what we are, right?"

Alfred nodded in silence.

"He couldn't betray me nor could he betray his people. Then it seemed like a rather good option for him to disappear."

"But I didn't know why nothing happened to me. Even though I loved him just as much too... but perhaps my love wasn't enough."

"No matter how sad I am, I could still live. There won't be any change in the world. Perhaps another you would appear. With a similar memory, but a different person."

Arthur said with a blank expression, "I couldn't stand this again. But... I couldn't push you away."

_Alfred recalled the expression Arthur had after the Briton returned to his seat on the night they had dinner together._

"I thought if I hold on to this line, it... it would definitely be all right this time."

_He recalled the night they had an argument. Arthur was resisting him vigorously._

"... Just give up, Al."

_He was naked. He could feel him crying, even though he looked so strong._

"We don't have a future."

Alfred didn't say anything. The speed of the car slowed down gradually. Alfred decided not to drive on the wide asphalt anymore. He turned into a lane and drove into a forest. It was already after noon. The sunlight entered the woods; the scattered light and shadow swept past the car continuously.

"You know what?" Alfred spoke up, "When I saw you in the trenches, I thought you looked so cool. You looked like you weren't afraid of anything. Nothing could defeat you."

"To be honest, even though you were always putting on an act at the party, I was actually doing that too. I wanted to invite you for a dance back then."

"I'm a hero. I'm fearless. That's why I'm able to approach you and deal with your difficult personality without giving up."

Alfred took a big breath, "But now you have turned into the coward you spoke of! Give up? My god!"

"I don't want anyone to decide everything for me! I want the freedom of thought! The freedom of speech! I'm not anyone's accessory! I want the freedom of love! I want the freedom of choice! I want the freedom to break through everything! If a world is outside the world, then I'll reach that place! Screw natural selection and the theory of evolution, I'll prove it to them! I'm a heretic, but I'll live!"

He didn't hear any sound coming from the back seat for a long time. Alfred simply stopped the car and turned his head back. Arthur was wiping the tears off his face desperately. The Briton was crying really hard, as if he was shedding all the tears that had accumulated for hundreds of years. Alfred wanted to tell him not to cry anymore, or London would be almost drowned in your tears. But he was unable to produce any sound because the American was choking down sobs too.

_Please, God. Even though I cursed you before, but if time could be stopped at this moment..._

Arthur looked at Alfred with teary eyes, but the older nation's smile was like a flower he hadn't seen for a long time. Arthur reached out and embraced Alfred with a powerful strength, as if he had found the precious treasure he had lost. Alfred knew for the first time that Arthur's strength was on par with his when the Briton was being serious.

No, he shouldn't say that. He had lost his superhuman strength after all. It couldn't be compared...

He also embraced Arthur back tightly. Their tears got each other's faces wet. Arthur laughed out first.

"Your snot is coming out."

"You too!"

"I love you." Arthur cherished this sentence carefully with caution, "You have always been my only one."

"Uh-huh." Alfred no longer had any doubt. There was nothing that could stand between them anymore.

"When do you think we'll disappear?"

"Oh. This problem isn't the problem at all. Don't you want to do something else before worrying about this problem?"

Arthur said challengingly.

"Too bad you can't strip because it's too narrow here."

"Don't underestimate the ability of the British Empire."

Alfred straightened the front seat so Arthur could climb over. He sat on Alfred, undoing the buttons of the person beneath him skillfully. Alfred couldn't help but feel a little jealous watching his movements.

"The him before... or rather, me, must have done it with you every day, huh?"

"As long as I'm here. Almost everyday." Arthur lowered his head and kissed the American's collarbone, then licked over the nipple with his skillful tongue. "In fact, we had a wonderful sex life."

The older nation grinned mischievously as he unbuckled Alfred's belt and pulled his pants down. Then he rubbed on the shape of the faint erection back and forth.

"My god..." Alfred gasped, "You... this is a despicable move!"

"This is one of the reasons as to why I'm able to become an empire." Arthur replied naturally. He circled Alfred's belly button with his finger tips. The Briton's firm butt cheeks were on top of his legs. Alfred's cock almost held up a small pyramid in his underwear, but Arthur still thought it wasn't enough. He bent down and licked along the outline erotically, making sure the American's underwear was all wet before he was satisfied. Alfred pressed Arthur's head unbearably in hope for a stronger stimulation. Arthur opened his mouth and had the whole thing including the clothes in his mouth, the tip of his tongue grazing the head continuously. The Briton bit it gently with his teeth. Alfred didn't last long; the white liquid that came out stained his underwear at once. His underwear became all wet. At this point, Arthur was satisfied and took the underwear off for him, then he grabbed Alfred's hands.

"What do you want me... to take off first?"

Alfred looked at him with a smile. As expected form the erotic ambassador. But he had no time to tease him about it now.

"Your underwear. But don't take off your pants yet."

"This will be rather difficult."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, then took his belt off under Alfred's intense gaze. The older nation held his body that was sitting on top of the American up and reached inside his own pants. There was little space inside the car, so he couldn't move too much. Arthur could only rub up and down on Alfred's legs. The Briton touched his own underwear, twisting his body and trying his best to get the underwear below his scrotum. His smooth butt was exposed to contact directly with the pants. Alfred imagined Arthur's current progress in his mind. Seeing Arthur's movements, he guessed the older nation had completed his demand-in other words, Arthur wasn't wearing anything inside aside from the pants. Because Alfred was lying down partly, he was able to touch Arthur's erection just by reaching his hand out. So he pinched the zipper part on the pants and pumped Arthur's cock along with it. He watched as Arthur's face gradually became hotter. The cold metal was rubbing against the sensitive burning spot now and then. With his eyes closed, Arthur felt his whole body tremble; the current of pleasure was numbing his scalp to his toes from up to down. He twitched before coming.

"We're all wet."

Alfred said as he enjoyed the way Arthur panted.

"What now?" Arthur asked as if he hadn't had enough.

"Bend over."

Arthur pressed against his chest obediently. They kissed from the forehead to the tip of the nose, then from the tip of the nose to the lips. Alfred held Arthur's hips, taking off the shirt and pants for him quietly. Finally, they were heart to heart with each other, their skin against each other. Alfred had Arthur's earlobe in his mouth, as if he was speaking silent whispers of love. Arthur smiled sweetly.

"I want to tell you... I'll annoy you so much... so you'll come just be thinking of me."

"Oh... then I'll eat you.. so you can only masturbate without me..."

Arthur lived up to his words. After taking deep breath, he sat onto Alfred's erected cock fearlessly. Alfred watched his pained expression, his heart aching yet feeling endless joy at the same time. He was just as despicable too. Even though his beloved was suffering, but he felt satisfied because the Briton was willing to do so. Arthur maintained a fixed position for a long time before finally starting to rock his body slowly with difficulty. This love-making wasn't really comfortable for Arthur, but he wanted to see Alfred's happy face. They had already lost happiness for too long. He eagerly hoped that intimacy could come back again. Their breathing sounds became heavier. Because Arthur was moving too slowly, Alfred couldn't help but support Arthur's waist and help him move up and down. Red traces of blood appeared where they were connected, but they had no intention to stop. They couldn't consider anything else besides the pleasure. The two of them could only cling on to that wonderful feeling like a drowning person and move up, and up again. Surmounting countless centuries and longings, they were merged together now.

* * *

_"If you just try all the doors, one of them is bound to be the Door into Summer."_

- _The Door into Summer_ by Robert A. Heinlein

* * *

"It's dripping out."

Alfred grabbed a tissue box and wiped for Arthur, who was lying lazily on the side. The semen that was just inside was mixed with blood and dripped along Arthur's legs. Alfred frowned. He really shouldn't have forced it. Arthur bent his legs and waved his lower legs, his ankle hitting the strap on the rearview mirror now and then.

"I'm feeling good." Arthur said as he squinted his eyes. He held Alfred's Texas in his hands and examined it. This pair of glasses looked nothing like a state, just like how the lock of hair that stuck out from Alfred's head looked nothing like an island. Alfred wanted him to turn sideways for a bit, but Arthur wasn't cooperative. He just kept his position and didn't move.

"Arthur." Alfred said again, but Arthur remained unmoved.

"It won't hurt to let your sperm stay inside me a little longer."

"... You're actually not Arthur, are you? Now tell me! Who the heck are you!"

"Actually, I'm the second one." Arthur revealed an elf-like smile with his eyes shining mischievously.

Alfred suddenly had a feeling of identity confusion.

**No way! That's usually my line!**

Then Arthur got up from the straightened seat, arching one leg casually and sitting cross-legged.

"I'm hungry."

Alfred figured there was nothing he could do about him and opened the storage bin before the right seat. There were a few bars of chocolate inside. Arthur took one for himself and threw one at Alfred.

"It's only at a time like this that I think you liking to eat so much is slightly useful."

"... Either you're not Arthur... or you have a split personality."

"What are yapping about?" Arthur patted Alfred's head, "I didn't become like this for you!"

He took a hard bite out of the chocolate in a fit of anger. He chewed on it for a while and said, "Put your clothes on already!"

"Hah~ you don't want to do it again?"

"You git! Can you have chocolate as the main meal?"

After that, they chatted away to their hearts' content on the road. They chatted about various things that happened after the War of Independence. Alfred learned about the things that Arthur kept from him, and Arthur forgave Alfred's impatience considerately. Arthur abandoned the classical music channel and switched to the rock music station. They screamed with the bands on the radio as much as they wanted, yelling and shouting along the way.

But Arthur had used up too much energy during their love-making in the afternoon. He had especially came over to United States the same night, his mind tense all the way and not closing his eyes until he finally met up with Alfred. Arthur began dozing off by the time they chatted until the evening, but he still insisted on talking.

It was like he had countless things he wanted to talk to Alfred about. They were losing their voices because of all the screaming, but Arthur's voice was still pleasant to listen to even if it sounded hoarse. Alfred watched the sunset on the other end of the horizon ahead, his mind feeling unprecedentedly calm.

It was already night by the time they found a fast food restaurant. Arthur seemed so tired he was about to fall asleep. Alfred decided to get off, buy dinner for the two of them, and bring it back to the car to continue the journey he didn't know when would end. He bought a large cup of mocha coffee in the store and asked whether the store provided black tea or not. In the end, a young girl in a Mickey Mouse apron handed him a cup of hot Earl Grey tea. He held a paper bag full of burgers and fries, returned to the car, and woke Arthur.

"Hey. Wake up. Eat something."

Arthur rubbed his eyes and woke up hazily. His unfocused focal length aligned gradually. When the Briton had clearly seen the face before him, his pupil shrunk and he widened his eyes.

"Why am I here?"

"Arthur?"

"Brat! Who said you can call me that!"

Arthur squinted his eyes in hostility.

Alfred paused for a while before finally remembering the Early Grey tea in his hand that was for Arthur. He handed the cup over the Arthur, but the Briton didn't accept it. Alfred pulled his hand over and made him hold the cup.

"What's this?" Arthur asked cautiously.

"The tea you like to drink so much."

Arthur sniffed it carefully. Even though it wasn't black tea, but he could accept Earl Grey tea. Arthur didn't drink it right away. He asked Alfred again.

"Why am I here with you?"

"... I'm driving you to the airport. Did you forget? Older people really do have bad memory. Ha ha ha."

"Shut up!" Arthur refuted angrily, "I-I didn't forget! I just couldn't remember for the moment!"

"Whatever." Alfred backed the car and drove out of the parking space. The black velvet-like night sky was decorated with stars. Ah, how beautiful.

"... Why am I so tired..." Arthur finally tore the lid off and took a small sip.

"I feel sleepy..."

"Then sleep." Alfred said. Sitting beside him, Arthur's eyelids were becoming heavy gradually.

He gazed at the dark, empty highway by himself and drove to the nearest airport.

"Good night, Arthur."

* * *

**Epilogue**

He stood in the wilderness, just like how he appeared in this land for the first time. The cold wind swept past; the sound of the rumble drumming in his ears. It was another early morning. Thick clouds and haze were above that, but he knew light would always break through.

He walked a few steps into the distance and stopped. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale... It was like he could hear the sound of his own heartbeat. He suddenly recalled he had heartbeat too.

A world is outside the world. Sadness or joy is already insignificant. He's the whole world right now and himself at the same time. He has everything he wanted, and is about to go to that place. He's not afraid. This is only the beginning of a new journey. Just like how Arthur crossed the ocean and found him back then, he's about to set sail too and find his trace.

What if they repeat the cycle again next time?

So what? He gradually realized he shouldn't think that such an ending is a pity since they love each other. In the process, they gained all those wonderful things, no more and no less than one another. It's just that their responsibilities and obligations don't allow them to do so. But he was no longer furious about it, for there are causes as well as effects. They met because they were born this way, then it must be inevitable that they disappear because of that.

What's more important is to have the pursuing heart from the beginning to the end.

To pursue love, pursue freedom, pursue beyond all this...

By believing, there must be a door that leads to the summer that you exist in.

I look forward to it.

He raised the gun and aimed at his temple.

* * *

**The Door into Summer**

_Arthur pinched his legs so he wouldn't fall asleep, at least not before Alfred walked into the store. He greedily hoped he could look for a few more seconds. His fingers were already becoming transparent gradually. Alfred was holding them just then, but they were about to disappear. From his hands and feet, even his body would finally disappear too. His heart, brain, the lips that had been kissed and the earlobe..._

_He's really putting Alfred above everything else this time. There's already no reason not to. He suddenly recalled at this final moment - would they have souls after possessing self-awareness?_

_They must do._

_By believing, it will exist._

_He was no longer afraid or sad. Just let things develop the way it would. No matter what kind of ending it is, it couldn't shake the fact that they were in love with each other._

_Every story will come to an end, but the love will continue. Even if we don't exist anymore..._

_Endure what was chosen. Accept the reality and overcome it._

_Overcome it._

_We'll overcome it._

**And I'll be waiting for you in the endless summer.**

- The End -

* * *

**Note**:

Some questions cleared by the author:

**On who was with Arthur when Alfred was on the phone with him**: those dialogues were only conversations from the TV.

**On why Arthur lost his memories in the end**: Because he decided to place Alfred above everything else, he would disappear eventually. By the author's definition of "disappearing", it was more like Arthur was purified forcibly. There seems nothing wrong on the outside, but he became different on the inside. He could remember most of the things, it's just that all the actions and emotions he did and had when he was off-track were gone.

This chapter took a while to translate because it was so long. And for some sentences I just couldn't find the English words that have the same feeling as the Chinese words.

This chapter is my favorite. I really love the part where Alfred was shouting for freedom. Near the end, I was typing while my tears were falling...

I'm reluctant to call this story a tragedy, since I believe their love will eventually lead to a happy end...

And finally, you can leave comments on the story for the author here, because I send her the links of the translation after I'm done :)


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